


Killer Crossover

by disdainfullady



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV), Veronica Mars (TV), Veronica Mars - All Media Types
Genre: Crossover
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-05-16 23:23:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19328200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disdainfullady/pseuds/disdainfullady
Summary: A series of unfortunate events plagues the Neptune High basketball team right before the championship game – against Sunnydale High.  Our favorite sleuth looks into things.  Set betweenHot DogsandM.A.Dfor VM and betweenEarshotandChoicesfor Buffy.  Hugs and puppies.  Indigenous kittens.  Puffy paint and Avril Lavigne CDs.  Parties and Birthdays and Christmas.  This is Fluff, people.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In my continuing efforts to de WIP my WIPs I bring you a crossover started... 14 years ago

 

 

 

“Hello, Veronica.”

 

Veronica felt her smile tighten automatically.“Hi, Mrs. Fennel.I’m just here to bring Wallace his homework and see how he’s doing.”She indicated the ridiculously large pile of books in her arms.

 

“Oh, of course.Come on, in,” Wallace’s mom stepped back to allow her entry.“I don’t know if he’ll be up for much of a visit, but I’m glad you stopped by.I think the constant bed rest is getting to him.”

 

Veronica nodded and made her way down the hall, narrowly avoiding the ball of energy disguised as a four year old boy that came hurtling at her, pausing briefly for a “Hi, ‘ronica” before rushing on to demand his mother’s attention, and, from the sound of it, an important new toy that featured among other things an “assault rifle”. _Yeah, good luck with that one, kid._

__

“Wallace?”She knocked briefly on the closed door, received a mumbled “come in” and entered.

 

“Hey superstar.I come bearing gifts.”He winced as she held up his history textbook and motioned for her to dump the books on his desk.She obediently deposited the offending schoolwork on a clear spot, and then moved to sit on the edge of his bed.“So any chance you’ll be leaving this life of luxury to return to school any time soon?I mean, I understand how much you’ve been dying to catch up on all your soaps, but your groupies are getting anxious.”

 

“Groupies?”

 

“Nadine and Becky to be specific.They actually interrupted what was probably a very important discussion on whatever color is the new black to ask me to tell you that they hoped you felt better soon.”

 

“That would be green.”

 

“Excuse, me?” 

 

“The new black.”He grinned at her.“It’s green.And here I thought you read _Lucky_.”

 

“I’m more concerned with the fact that _you_ apparently read _Lucky_.”

 

“When you are this bored you do.A guy can only take so many naps, you know.It was in a pile of stuff my mom gave me to read.My head couldn’t handle _Technology Review_ in this state, so instead I learned how to find a pair of jeans that would flatter my figure.”

 

She shot him a look.“I’m so happy for you.”

 

“Yeah, well, I’m saving Darrell’s _Highlights_ for when I get really desperate.Since I’m apparently spending at least another few days locked in here, so I figured I should pace myself.”He was laughing, but she could hear the touch of bitterness in his tone.

 

“So that means the championships…” she trailed off hesitantly.

 

“Are out.Doc says there’s no way I’ll be able to play.Healthy all year long and I get sick just in time to let my whole team down.”

 

Veronica swallowed hard and wished she could think of something to say that wouldn’t sound trite.Nothing came.

 

“As if things weren’t bad enough for the guys already…”

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

“You know Adam, right?”She nodded, even though she wasn’t actually sure she did, wondering exactly where this was going.“He wrecked his dad’s car a few days ago; his dad pulled him off the team.And Caz won’t be able to play cause his GPA has dropped too low this semester. You should have heard him yelling at Coach about it; he insisted someone was setting him up, offered to throw himself off the roof to prove he wasn’t lying.”

 

Veronica rolled her eyes, “Why, oh why doesn’t anyone ever take him up on that offer?”

 

“We are going to get creamed.”Wallace pounded his fist on the mattress.“Man, this sucks.”

 

“I wish there was something I could do.”

 

“Not unless you’ve got some miracle cure in that magic sack of yours, Santa,” he said ruefully.

 

“Rats, all out.” 

 

“The thing is, Sunnydale isn’t even that good.They shouldn’t have a shot at this.”

 

***

 

She didn’t stay much longer.Wallace was clearly more exhausted than he would admit to, so after a few minutes, she made her way out, nodding a farewell to Mrs. Fennel.

 

Back at her dad’s office she sat – ostensibly working on her AP Lang and Comp assignment, but she wasn’t focusing.Sure, a kid borrowing and then screwing up his dad’s car wasn’t a particularly unbelievable occurrence, especially given how tempting most of the mid-life-crisis cars around here were.Even less surprising was the fact that Caz Truman was struggling scholastically.All the same, three Neptune High players conveniently unable to play just before the big game?

 

She threw down her copy of _The Sun Also Rises_ , rolling her eyes inwardly at her own inability to let things go.It didn’t take her long to find the stats on the basketball team, as the school’s website featured about three hundred times more information on the various athletics programs than it did on the actual schooling available.

 

_Well looky here, Wallace, Adam, and Caz just happen to be the best players on the team. Maybe Caz was right - wow, that’s a weird sentence – maybe someone had a vested interest in keeping certain Neptune players out of the game.Someone from Sunnydale perhaps?_

__

She glanced up at the sound of the door opening, a silly little half-smile playing on her face when she saw Logan.Not exactly a reaction she ever thought he’d garner, true, but the fact that the grin was mirrored in his face made it sting a little less.

 

“Hey.”

 

“Hey, back.”

 

Veronica stood as he came around the desk – not so surreptitiously checking her dad’s office to make sure they were alone – and took her hands in his.

 

“So how,” he kissed her temple, “is my favorite,” a light kiss on the cheek, “super sleuth?” a kiss on the lips that started light but quickly deepened into dangerous territory.

 

“She’s fine,” Veronica managed, although she wasn’t sure that was strictly true.Surely her current heart rate was indicative of a serious problem.“She’s busy.”

 

“You’re always busy,” Logan sighed.He collapsed into her desk chair and pulled her onto his lap.

 

“It’s always important,” she said primly, although the effect was somewhat spoiled by the grin that she couldn’t seem to wipe off of her face.“After all,” she shifted to look at him as he wrapped his arms around her, “I won’t keep my sleuth title if I don’t do any sleuthing.Next thing I know, Nancy Drew will have supplanted me in your affections”

 

“Never happen.I mean, sure, we used to have a thing, but I was so young then.”

 

_This shouldn’t be so easy.I’ve hated him for more than a year._

 

“So,” he said easily, “what nefarious schemes are you uncovering today?Bank robbery?Jewel heist?Murder on the Orient Express?”

 

“Much more glamorous than that.It seems that someone might be trying to keep Neptune from winning regionals, or state, or whatever the major basketball title is.”

 

“I thought you already thwarted that evil plan.”

 

“I did.This would be a different one.Apparently the team’s good enough to warrant multiple attacks this year.”

 

“I suddenly feel so filled with Pirate Pride.”He glanced over at her open Powerbook “And you’re going to find that person using Google?”

 

“Probably not.But I should be able to get some of the preliminary work out of the way.”

 

“Sounds exciting.”He was kissing her again. __

 

“You have no idea.Sunnydale isn’t going to know what hit them.” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A series of unfortunate events plague the Neptune High basketball team right before the championship game – against Sunnydale High.  Our favorite sleuth looks into things.  Set between _Hot Dogs_ and _M.A.D_ for VM and between _Earshot_ and _Choices_ for Buffy.  Hugs and puppies.  Indigenous kittens.  Puffy paint and Avril Lavigne CDs.  Parties and Birthdays and Christmas.  This is Fluff, people.

 

“Absolutely not.”

 

“I wasn’t asking, I was telling and why not?”Buffy knew she was whining, but it was impossible to have a rational adult conversation with Wesley, probably because he was unfamiliar with both “rational” and “adult” behavior.

 

Wesley drew himself up stiffly.“You have a sacred duty to protect the world.Not to cheer on overgrown imbeciles as they attempt to throw a ball in a net.The situation with the mayor being as it is I simply cannot allow you to-”

 

“Unless the mayor’s planning on giving a symposium on _My Evil Plan and How to Stop It_ on Friday, I don’t see how my taking a night off is going to affect anything.”

 

“Enough.The council has placed me in charge of you and you will patrol on Friday as usual,” he said in what he probably hoped was an authoritative manner.“Now, if you will excuse me, I need to get back to researching how to save the world from unspeakable evil.”

 

Buffy glared at his retreating back.

 

“Giles?”

 

Giles sighed, “Much as it pains me to admit it, Wesley’s right.If something were to happen, you’d be needed here, and you said yourself that you aren’t sure how far away the game is.Until we know more about the Ascension, I think it’s best that you maintain constant vigilance.”

 

“We know about the Ascension.Among other things, it’s not until Graduation Day, which, last I checked, is not this Friday.Giles, I’m not asking for three weeks in the Bahamas, I just want to be able to go to one basketball game with my friends before the season’s over.”

 

Pouting worked better on Giles than it did on Wesley, and she could see he was starting to cave when the door swung open and Willow, Oz, and Cordelia walked in.

 

“Hey guys, what’s up?”

 

“Just the determination to deny me even a single happy high school moment.”

 

“That’s a shame.Is Wesley here?”

 

Willow shot Cordelia a baleful look before turning to Buffy.“Giles isn’t letting you go to the game then?”

 

“Well, technically Wesley isn’t letting me go and Giles is supporting him, but basically, yeah, that sums it up.”

 

Cordelia had been scanning the library like she thought Wesley might have wedged himself into one of the bookshelves, which, all things considered wasn’t entirely outside of the realm of possibility, but she snapped to attention at the sound of his name.“Buffy, Wesley is your Watcher and if he thinks it’s best, then you should listen to him.Why else do you think the Watcher’s council entrusted him?”

 

“Because they have a sick sense of humor?”

 

“Be that as it may,” Giles interjected, “That doesn’t change the fact that in this case, he happens to be right.”

 

“But Giles-”

 

“Oh, honestly, it’s not like you’re missing that much.I mean, Percy’s pretty good, and Hogan’s frankly amazing, and sure there have been a few games that make me proud to be a cheerleader-”

 

“Cordelia.Point?”

 

“My point is that our beloved basketball team isn’t actually that good.”

 

Willow frowned.“I thought they were good.”

 

“Please.You just happened to see one of the better games.And you know nothing about basketball.Believe me, those guys are nothing to write home about.”

 

“Then how come they keep winning?”

 

“Blind luck?A lot of our major opponents have had players out when we went up against them.”

 

“So we’ve had a successful season because all the other teams keep having off weeks?”

 

“Basically, yeah.”

 

“You know,” Buffy grinned mischievously, “That sounds pretty suspicious to me.I mean think about it, what are the odds that a team could just happen to get this far without demonstrating any skill?”She elbowed Willow.

 

“Ow, I mean, right.I’m suspicious.Sounds to me like evil is afoot”

 

“Possibly even a hand,” Oz remarked.

 

“I should probably look into it, don’t you think?Say, at the game on Friday?After all, it is my calling and I would be loathe to neglect it in these times of crisis.”

 

“Your devotion to your obligations is heartwarming,” Giles commented dryly.

 

“Giles, come on.Basketball players could be in danger.It’s up to me to expose the seedy underbelly of this innocent pastime.Pleeeeease?”

 

Giles rolled his eyes.“Oh very well.But I expect you to put in extra training sessions to make up for it, you understand?”

 

“Yay.You’re the best, Giles.You’ll explain to Wesley, right? Okay I gottagobye.”

 

*** 

 

It was getting late.She wasn’t sure how to define whatever she and Logan had, but their situation was proving far too distracting.She still had no idea whether or not Neptune’s basketball team was suffering from bad luck or foul play and she hadn’t managed to even start her English homework.

 

She returned her attention to the computer.Information on Sunnydale’s basketball team was surprisingly hard to find simply because just about every search she seemed to try linked to various police reports from the area.Almost all of the athletics mentions she found were articles about a series of murders last year.Apparently the coach killed half the swim team before offing himself. _Charming._

__

Eventually she managed to pull up what appeared to be the school’s newspaper.It didn’t take long to discover that Sunnydale had pulled off a number of surprising wins, and by cross referencing the Sunnydale articles with the opposing school’s account of things she was able to determine that most of these schools had had to sit out one or more of their star players.

 

So it was definitely a pattern, not a coincidence.Well, Wallace’s illness was probably a coincidence.She wasn’t sure how you could give a person the flu with any real determination of success.Although if she found out someone was responsible for it, that person was going to suffer a miserable horrifying death.But for the rest?

 

_Caz Truman’s grades have never been what one would call good, and it’s entirely possible that the loss of his girlfriend Sabrina’s tutoring sent them on a downward spiral.Of course it’s also possible that that’s exactly what someone wants me to think._

 

She pulled out her phone.“Hey, Mac, it’s Veronica.I need a favor.”

 

“Shoot.”

 

“I need to know if someone hacked into the school’s system and altered a student’s GPA.”

 

“Sure, no problem.What student?”

 

“Caz Truman.His grades have fallen enough that he isn’t eligible for the basketball team anymore.I think someone wanted it that way.”

 

“Shouldn’t be too tough.I’ll get back with you tomorrow.Although, I have to tell you, Veronica, that guy is in my history class, and I’m pretty sure he’s capapable of failing all by himself.”

 

“Believe me; I’m fully aware of that.I just have a feeling that there’s more to this than that.”

 

“OK, I’m on it.”  
  


“Thanks, Mac.I’ll talk to you later.”

 

Someone from Sunnydale was sabotaging the Neptune team.Hopefully Mac would be able to provide concrete evidence of the tampering.

 

_Meanwhile, I think it’s high time I met the suspects._

 

***

 

“Hey Buffy.”

 

“Hey.” Buffy took her seat at the lunch table. Oz nodded his head in silent greeting, but Xander’s attention was decidedly elsewhere.“Hey Xand. How’s it going?”Still no response.“What’s up with him?”

 

“Oh, Xander’s staring at the new girl.’

 

“We have a new girl?”


	3. Killer Crossover Ch.3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A series of unfortunate events plague the Neptune High basketball team right before the championship game – against Sunnydale High.  Our favorite sleuth looks into things.  Set between _Hot Dogs_ and _M.A.D_ for VM and between _Earshot_ and _Choices_ for Buffy.  Hugs and puppies.  Indigenous kittens.  Puffy paint and Avril Lavigne CDs.  Parties and Birthdays and Christmas.  This is Fluff, people.

 

 

“Isn’t it a little late in the year for transfers?”Buffy asked, glancing a few tables down where a perky blond was chatting animatedly with a few jocks.

 

Xander managed to rouse himself from his stupor enough to say “Not when they look like that,” in tones that bespoke mild worship.

 

Buffy and Willow exchanged amused glances. Cordelia, in passing, had managed to overhear the last of the exchange, and never one to miss an opportunity to be snide, turned to the table “You mean at that cheap skank throwing herself at Percy?Why does this not surprise me?”

 

“What can I say?I like them cheap.Explains why I dated you, anyway,” Xander smirked.

 

“Cute.”She gave Xander the briefest of nasty looks before returning her attention to the new girl.“God, look at her, what a fake.I can’t believe he’s falling for her act.”

 

“Act?”Buffy looked bemused.

 

Cordelia made a face.“Don’t play dumb.She’s totally using him for his popularity.”

 

“Yeah, I hate superficial people,” Xander said pointedly.

 

Cordelia’s eyes narrowed at this, but refused to let it derail her.“I should really go rescue him.”

 

***

 

“Percy, it’s so sweet of you to reach out to the less fortunate.”

 

Veronica turned to see an overly made-up brunette, who, judging from her attitude, looked to be Madison Sinclair’s soul mate, making her way over to them.The girl ignored Veronica completely and smiled broadly at the guys.

 

“Hey, Cordelia, thanks, I mean, what?” Percy stammered.

 

_Veronica, you’re undercover, you can’t bitch her out.Even if you really want to._

 

“I mean it’s just so generous of you to take on charity cases, but don’t you think the poor girl feels a little out of her element?Maybe you should let her find her own level.”

 

_Even if you really really want to._

 

An awkward silence followed and the guys chose the easiest way out of the situation – flight.

 

“Well, I gotta run.I should probably be going.The bell’s about to ring.”There was a rush to gather belongings.

 

“I’ll see you later at that thing, Heather,” one of the guys – Chris, she thought – said as he and Percy turned back to grin at her.

 

Veronica wrinkled her nose playfully and chirped, “The Bronze, right?”

 

“Right,” he agreed before sauntering off.

 

_I have to say, there are times I so enjoy being a girl._

__

“Heather is it?How very eighties.”Apparently _Cordelia_ didn’t think her unwelcome wagon had been enough. Because one bratty rich girl was really threatening after a year and a half as Neptune’s very own leper.

 

“Well we can’t all have names that went out in the powdered wig days,” she said sweetly.Okay, so this was probably a bad idea, but hey, if she was going to be a _Heather_ she might as well be the red one.

 

The other girl glared at her but Veronica cut her off before she could launch into her speech about “how things work around here”.

 

“Look, I’m going to make this simple.I really don’t care how threatened you feel.If you mess with me again, I _will_ destroy you.Got it?Good.”She walked off without waiting for a response leaving Cordelia staring after her.

 

_Cordelia, my love, there’s a new sheriff in town._

__

***

 

“So what’s the verdict on the basketball game?”Xander asked.

 

Buffy grinned.“I had to twist Giles’s arm a little bit, but the game is a go.”

 

“Weren’t you supposed to check with Princess Priss about that?”

 

“Well, Wesley might be under the impression that I’m investigating the team.”

 

“Okay,” He paused.“Why?”

 

“Probably because that’s what she told Giles to tell him,” Willow said lightly.

 

“Thank you.”Xander shot Willow a look before turning to look at Buffy again.“I mean, what does he think you’re investigating?This isn’t like last year with the fish DNA in the steam room is it, because I still have nightmares about that.”

 

“Nah.Fish would be useless for basketball.Kangaroo maybe,” Oz mused.

 

“Relax.It’s nothing like that.Apparently our not that good team has had an unexplained change in fortune, and it made a good excuse.”

 

“If by good you mean flimsy and completely transparent,” remarked Willow.She ducked, still giggling when Buffy responded by throwing a cheeto at her.

 

“Or giraffe.”

 

“So, why do you think Wesley is going to buy this exactly?” asked Xander.

 

“Oh please.It’s Wesley.The man wanted me to investigate why his newspaper went missing.Anyway, I figured that I would make a show of doing some preliminary work.Stick close to the basketball team.Like say, tonight, at the Bronze?”

 

Xander nodded sagely.“You are very wise.”

 

“Wil?”

 

“Well, I can’t let you go investigating on your own now can I?”She turned to Oz.“You’ll come after your rehearsal, right?”

 

He smiled gently.“Wouldn’t miss it.”

 

***

 

The phone rang when she was trying to figure out what exactly “Heather” would wear to go clubbing.

 

“Veronica?It’s Mac.”

 

She sat on the edge of the bed.“What have you got for me?”

 

“I think you’re right, someone tampered with his grades.If his grades had been this bad all semester he would have been pulled from the team over a month ago.Plus the file itself shows evidence of alteration, although I haven’t been able to pull up an ungarbled version of the original yet.”

 

“Can you trace whoever did it?”

 

“Ordinarily, it wouldn’t be a problem, but whoever did this was good.Besides me, I can think of maybe two guys at Neptune who could cover their tracks this well.I’ll keep working on it, but it might take a while.”

 

“Okay, thanks Mac.”

 

_So I’m looking for someone who really knows their way around computers._


	4. Killer Crossover Ch.4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A series of unfortunate events plague the Neptune High basketball team right before the championship game – against Sunnydale High.  Our favorite sleuth looks into things.  Set between _Hot Dogs_ and _M.A.D_ for VM and between _Earshot_ and _Choices_ for Buffy.  Hugs and puppies.  Indigenous kittens.  Puffy paint and Avril Lavigne CDs.  Parties and Birthdays and Christmas.  This is Fluff, people.

 

 

Veronica was a little early and she took a few moments to assess the place.Clusters of couches dotted the darkened corners of the club and an industrial looking flight of stairs led the way to a loft area. Breathy – and nonsensical – vocals floated down from the stage at the far end of the room.

 

It was surprisingly busy for a weeknight, although she had to grant that there didn’t seem to be much else to do in this town.The crowd was young – mostly high school students – all divided according to their little cliques in a way that made the place feel more like a school cafeteria than a nightclub.No one from the particular group she was interested in had arrived yet though, so she looked around for a seat.

 

Unfortunately there was almost no seating available and she wound up perched on one of those high bar stools that left her feet dangling and always made her feel even shorter than she already was.

 

She was trying to decide how much longer to wait when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

 

“I wasn’t sure you’d make it tonight.”

 

She turned in surprise.The guy was tall, good looking in a vaguely Neanderthal way, and several years older than the majority of this place’s clientele.And she had never seen him before in her life.

 

He withdrew his hand awkwardly as he realized his mistake and began fumbling an apology, clearly embarrassed not just because he had mistaken her for someone else, but also because his mistake had left him talking to a strange girl, something he quite obviously wasn’t very good at. She decided to be generous.

 

“That’s all right.”She smiled reassuringly.“I’m just waiting for some people.I’m Heather.”

 

A half smile flickered on his face for a second.“I’m Angel.”He paused for a second then continued, “I really am sorry about bothering you.”

 

_Yeah, I got that part.Breathe dude._

__

“Don’t worry about it. I’d offer you a seat, but I think they all went in the last blue-light special.”

 

Another flash of smile.She realized his face didn’t wear smiles well, almost as if it had forgotten how.

 

“I’m good, thanks.”

 

***

 

Buffy glanced at her watch.She was late of course.Why was it vamps only ever showed up when she was in a hurry?She tried to do a quick check of her outfit.No visible grass stains, nothing torn, heels still intact.Her hair was a bit of a mess though. _Stupid vamps_.

 

She made her way into the Bronze.It was packed tonight and it took her a little while to find Xander and Willow, who had commandeered one of the corner couches.She sank onto the couch with relief, her boots were great, but they weren’t really made for walking – let alone fighting – and her feet were killing her.

 

“Hello, friends of mine.”

 

“Buffy, finally, we need you to settle this.”Xander turned to her seriously.“Do you think Klingons are vampires?”

 

“Do I what now?”

 

Willow heaved the sigh of someone who had been arguing a point fifteen minutes longer than they wanted.“Xander has this insane theory that the Klingons on _Star Trek_ were based on vampires.”

 

“The _Next Generation_ Klingons, not the _Original Series_.And they have to be, I mean think about it, the foreheads, the blood lust, the concern with ancient rituals passed down from time out of mind and did I mention the foreheads?”

 

“But all the aliens in Star Trek have funny foreheads.That’s why they call them forehead aliens,” Willow explained patiently.

 

“Clearly suspicious, don’t you think.”

 

“Or it’s cheaper and they are uninventive.”

 

Buffy watched the back and forth with amusement, but didn’t venture to comment.She could tell they had pretty much exhausted this particular argument and were arguing in circles now.When Xander paused for breath she decided to interject and asked him to go get sodas.

 

“Why me?”

 

“Because you’re the big strong man of course. And in no way because I want to stop this fascinating discussion.”

 

“Just checking.”He headed off, threading his way through the mass of bodies now clogging the dance floor.Buffy turned to Willow.

 

“Oz is coming right?”

 

“Last I checked.He said he might be late though.”

 

Buffy tucked her legs under her and studied her friend.“How are things going with you guys?”  
  


Willow smiled.“It’s nice.He – we’ve gotten into a really good place lately.You know?”She leaned forward.“How about you and Angel?”

 

“I think we’re good actually.Last week we really were able to clear the air.Our air is now completely see-through.”

 

“So, is he taking you to the prom?”

 

“I don’t know, I mean, we haven’t really talked about it.What with the Faith situation, and the ascension to worry about, and my temporary telepathy, prom hasn’t really been a priority.But he’s supposed to be here tonight, so maybe I’ll bring it up.”

 

“Who’s supposed to be here?”Xander asked as he set the cups down on the table in front of him and reclaimed his section of the couch.

 

“Angel.”

 

“He’s already here.”Xander nodded in the direction he’d just come from.“Looks like he’s been making some new friends.Or onenew friend anyway.”

 

Buffy looked over to where he’d nodded and sure enough there was Angel – chatting with the new girl.Comfortably chatting with the very attractive new girl.

 

Willow looked worried.“I’m sure it’s nothing, he probably just doesn’t know you’re here yet.”

 

“And he’s clearly looking really hard – Ow.”Xander rubbed his arm and glared at Willow.“I’m not the one making time with a new girl while my girlfriend sits in a corner and waits.”He sighed, “Of course that would require me to _have_ a girlfriend.”

 

Willow studied Buffy’s face anxiously.“What are you going to do?”

 

Buffy managed a strained smile “I guess I’m going to talk to him.”

 

She stood up and made her way over to the duo.

 

Xander turned to Willow.“I feel like we should have popcorn.”

 

***

 

“Angel?”

 

Veronica looked up to see a pretty blond looking at them with an uncertainty that seemed ready to turn into hurt anger at a moments notice.

 

_This must be the girlfriend.And she thinks I’ve been poaching. No thanks, hon.Really, really not my type._

 

Veronica glanced at Angel to see if he’d picked up on his girlfriend’s “Leave my man alone” vibe, but he appeared oblivious.Men were idiots.Time for a little damage control.

 

She hopped off the barstool, offering her hand cheerfully.“You must be Buffy.Angel was looking for you and he saw the hair and thought it was you and then he started talking about you, and now I almost feel like I know you.”She positioned herself carefully so that Buffy was between her and Angel continually babbling a tale of innocence.

“I was waiting for some guys, but I guess they flaked on me.Oh, I’m Heather by the way.”

 

Buffy, smiled, a smile of mere politeness, although at least that was better than a smile that said “Die, you man stealer” and conversation turned to safer topics.

 

Veronica was looking for a way to make her escape; she really didn’t want to spend any more time with this overgrown puppy and his keeper. She was here on a case, not to make small talk. However, before she could claim an urgent need for the powder room their conversation was interrupted.

 

“Buffy. Angel.Hi guys.I’m sure you all have lots to talk about, but you know that _thing_ you have to do?”said a cheerful looking redhead as she all but pointed at the front of the club.Veronica turned curiously but all she could see was a couple leaving the club.Nevertheless, Buffy and Angel immediately responded and made their excuses.

 

“Right, the _thing_.Yeah, we should go deal with that.Um, it was nice to talk to you, Heather.”

 

_The “thing.”Okay, I know I was giving an airhead vibe, but come-on._

 

Whatever it was was probably none of her business though, so she returned her attention to the other girl, who was nervously introducing herself as Willow.She studied the girl for a moment.

 

“You know, I know someone who looks just like you.”


	5. Killer Crossover Ch.5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A series of unfortunate events plague the Neptune High basketball team right before the championship game – against Sunnydale High.  Our favorite sleuth looks into things.  Set between _Hot Dogs_ and _M.A.D_ for VM and between _Earshot_ and _Choices_ for Buffy.  Hugs and puppies.  Indigenous kittens.  Puffy paint and Avril Lavigne CDs.  Parties and Birthdays and Christmas.  This is Fluff, people.

 

"Do you see them?" Angel asked as he came up behind her.

 

Buffy shook her head."No, but there's really only one place they could be."She nodded in the direction of the nearest alley. 

 

"You don't know that…" he trailed off at the sound of a shriek, quickly cut off, sounded from the direction she had indicated.Buffy broke into a run. 

 

They rounded the corner to be greeted by an all too familiar tableau.The vamp had thrown the girl against a wall then pinned her there. "You know, just once I wish this place was used for ordinary necking," Buffy grumbled as she made her way forward.

 

"Hi," she said brightly.The guy turned but didn't loosen his hold on the girl."Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt.Oh wait – I really did."She pulled the guy off his victim and heard him land somewhere behind her.Angel stepped up to engage the guy, so she turned her attention to the girl who had sunk to the ground. 

 

"You should probably run away now."

 

Eyes wide with fear, the girl turned to Buffy."He… he…"

 

"Yeah, I know.See this is why you shouldn't make out with total strangers in blind alleys.If you're going to make out with someone you've never met, just go ahead and do it in public." 

 

The girl stared blankly at the ground in front of her.Buffy knelt gently beside her."Hey, you're going to be okay." 

 

She helped the girl regain her feet and lightly nudged her towards the alley's entrance.The girl slowly backed away at first, but then something seemed to snap and she turned to run. 

 

"Bye then," Buffy called.She turned back towards the fight.Angel – now in vamp face as well – was grappling with the guy. Neither one had an obvious upper hand.Reaching in her jacket pocket for a stake, she sauntered over, casually stabbing the vamp in the back while his focus was on Angel.

 

"They should all be that easy."

 

Angel glowered slightly."It might have been easier if you'd helped out sooner."He gestured at his sleeve in indignation, "The guy ripped my coat." 

 

"Wow.That was… kind of girly actually."She grinned when he frowned again."Oh come on, I was teasing."She took a step towards Angel."Besides, I think you look good that way.More rugged."Another step closed the distance between them."Manly."She put her arms around him."Devil may care, even."

 

He grinned, "Oh really?"

 

"Really," she smirked back at him."Now, what was it I was saying about the proper use for this place?Oh right…"She was leaning up on her tiptoes but stopped as a loud crash echoed from one of the nearby side streets.She pulled away."Rats.I think I've just been paged.One of these days I'm going to have to get a job with normal hours." 

 

He laughed shortly and awkwardly, the way he always did when she mentioned a desire for anything mundane.It was like he thought she wanted to leave him behind along with the rest of her bizarre existence. Before she could reassure him though, he grinned at her."A job that doesn't involve wandering dark alleys?"

 

"Oh yeah, give me a boring cubicle any day."She moved ahead in the general direction of the crash."I could have a plant on my desk, ooh and lots of pretty colored pens in my pencil cup, and I'd make friends with the copying machine guy, and I bet no one would try to kill me on a daily basis."

 

She stopped at the far edge of the alley, where it dead-ended into another desolate street.The crash hadn't come again."Right or left?" She paused, "You know, maybe we're jumping to conclusions here.It isn't necessarily trouble.I mean, it's not _always_ trouble."She tried to come up with another reasonable explanation. "It could be a cat," she finished lamely.

 

Another crash sounded.Definitely to the right.

 

"A big cat?

 

Someone shouted briefly.

 

"That's not a cat," Angel stated flatly.

 

The two of them broke into a run, heading in the direction of the noise and practically ran straight into Hogan and a couple of other guys she recognized vaguely as being on the team as well.

 

Hogan had apparently been trying to demonstrate his exploits at that evening's practice, but his extreme drunkenness didn't aid him particularly in the endeavor and he'd knocked over two trashcans.The other two were clearly half drunk themselves and were too busy laughing at their friend to bother helping him.

 

So no danger then.Except to themselves.

__

She'd almost prefer the vampires.She sighed and helped Hogan to his feet and proceeded to give the three of them a lecture that would have made Giles proud, although the ending was a bit spoiled by them wandering off.She shrugged at Angel who had been standing on the sidelines a bit awkwardly.She'd tried at least.

 

They righted the trashcans hastily – thankfully they'd been mostly empty – and turned to head back to the Bronze, but something out of the corner of her eye attracted Buffy's attention.It was just a folded piece of paper, but there was a weird glyph on it that she could have sworn she'd seen somewhere before.She pocketed the thing and moved to rejoin her friends. 

 

***

 

Veronica was aware she was staring, but the resemblance was creeping her out a little.Willow had blanched at her comment and Veronica wondered if she'd been asked the question before, except as far as she knew, hardly anyone had ever heard of Trina.She occasionally showed up as a fashion _don't i_ n some of the trashier magazines, but she wasn't even a D-list celebrity.Y-List maybe.

 

Willow pushed a strand of hair nervously behind her ear, "Um, this person who looks like me, she didn't-"

 

"Hey, aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?"

 

_So apparently the secret to popularity is to simply not be in_ _Neptune_ _.Good to know._

__

The newcomer, who had sidled up next to Willow, extended his hand awkwardly, realized he was still holding a soda in it, and switched hands rapidly, nearly spilling the drink in the process. _Smooth._

 

"Hi… er.Xander.I mean, I'm Xander.And you're the new girl.Which… you already knew.And um…"

 

"Xander, this is Heather," Willow interjected hastily. 

 

Veronica's smile was slightly strained, "Hi."

 

Thus far, the night had been a complete and total waste.Not that it wasn't refreshing that the kids here weren't planning to burn her in effigy, but she was doing this to help Wallace, not to jump start her social life.

 

Well, there was more than one way of pursuing this.Mac had said she was looking for someone good with computers.Presumably the cross section of basketball fanatics and the computer obsessed was sufficiently narrow. Her painstakingly made basketball connections appeared to have flaked, so…

 

"So, Heather, tell us everything there is to know about you.Likes, dislikes, your idea of the perfect guy…"

 

Veronica wasn't sure what to say.He was like a hopeful puppy, and she was going to feel really guilty when she smacked him with that damn newspaper. So reach for a small white one then, "Um, well, my boyfriend would probably be upset if I didn't say him for that last one."

 

_I did not just call Logan my boyfriend.I did not._

__

The guy looked mildly disappointed, but he covered reasonably well.Willow, after shooting a concerned protective look his way, quickly changed the subject, offering to show Veronica around campus the next day."I'm sure it's confusing, moving to a new school this late in the semester and all."

 

"Yeah, did you know we have three entirely different hallways?The place is a maze I tell you."

 

Veronica smiled genuinely this time, then, realizing her opening, hastily arranged her features into a worried _expression."Actually, maybe you guys _could_ help me.See, my dad got me a new computer as a kind of apology for the move, and I'm trying to get it set up with decent security codes and stuff, but I don't really know what I'm doing.Do you know who I could maybe talk to?Is there a computer club or something?"

 

"Oh, I can help you with that, easy," Willow volunteered.

 

_Shoot.Okay, so that was about as unhelpful as possible._

 

"Are you sure?I wouldn't want you to go to any trouble."

 

"It's no trouble at all." _Damn._ "I can set you up tomorrow at school.Do you have a free period?"

 

"My schedule isn't firmly nailed down yet – I'm supposed to see the counselor about it tomorrow, but I'll let you know."She made another effort. "If I can't find you, who'd be my next best bet?"

 

Willow shrugged somewhat apologetically "Well, most of the guys who were into computers," she paused, and wow was this girl ever a bad liar.She nervously fidgeted with her hands as she continued, "Um, they lost interest a while ago.I'll tell you what,"she said brightly, in the all too eager tone of one who wants her previous statement not examined to carefully, "Since you aren't sure about your schedule yet, why don't you just meet my in the library after school tomorrow?"

 

She couldn't exactly refuse without looking pretty suspicious, so Veronica smiled and agreed to the meeting before making her farewells.With any luck she'd have found her culprit before it became necessary to keep the appointment.Of course the way her luck was going, that was a bit of a long shot, but she could hope. 

 

It was dark and surprisingly chilly outside.She made her way swiftly towards her parked LeBaron, mildly cursing the person whose inept parking had left her very little room to maneuver.It took nearly five minutes of carefully inching back and forth before she was able to extricate herself, which really, was just the perfect cap to her completely useless day.

 

She drove back slowly, her thoughts more on the case than on the road.She'd toyed briefly with the idea that Willow was the saboteur, but without any obvious link to the basketball team, it seemed relatively unlikely.Which meant she was back at something with a remarkable resemblance to square one.


	6. Killer Crossover Ch. 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A series of unfortunate events plagues the Neptune High basketball team right before the championship game – against Sunnydale High. Our two heroines look into things.

“It took me a week to organize them and now I find that you’ve gone behind my back and completely naused them up!”Wesley exclaimed shrilly.

 

“Yes, do let's argue about this some more.”

 

Giles sighed and removed his glasses, briefly pinching the bridge of his nose, before looking up to acknowledge Buffy, who was standing in the doorway with a bemused expression on her face.

 

Wesley, catching sight of her, hastened to rearrange his features into something a little more imposing and little less like he was about to go running to mommy.

 

“Ah, Buffy, good.I trust you’ve a report on last night’s patrol?”

 

Buffy smiled innocently as she noted the vein still standing out on Wesley’s temple.“Only if I’m not interrupting,” she said sweetly.

 

“Not at all,” Wesley condescended.“Mr. Giles and I can continue this discussion at a later interval.”

 

Giles rolled his eyes and Buffy had to suppress a grin.

 

“Now, tell me about patrol.Any significant activity?”

 

Buffy shrugged.“Not particularly.Got two vamps by Walston Park and one outside the Bronze.None of them were up to anything.”She paused.“Well, other than the usual.”

 

Wesley looked pathetically disappointed at her abbreviated summation.“Yes, and?”

 

“And… nothing.I came, I saw, I slayed.You know Wes, not _every_ vamp is going to be a demonic mastermind.Some are just –“Realization struck her and she halted briefly.“Actually, there was something.”

 

She fished in the pockets of her jacket and pulled out the folded piece of paper she’d found the night before.

 

“I found this in an alley near the Bronze.”She directed her attention to Giles and pointed out the glyph.“It looked to be not of the good.”  
  


Giles leaned in with interest.“Well, I can’t say it’s something I recognize.It’s interesting though – the symbol bears a superficial resemblance to the iconography employed by Hellenic priests, although this marking on the left corner deviates from the traditional pattern quite a bit.”

 

“Fascinating,” Buffy deadpanned.

 

Wesley, who had been frowning in consternation – although Buffy wasn’t sure whether that was because he couldn’t identify the symbol or because she had asked Giles – suddenly snapped his fingers in recognition.

 

“Of course!”He sprinted up the stairs to the library’s loft, diving into the stacks before poking his head out in irritation.“Where do you keep your copy of Rutherford’s Compendium?”

 

“You’ll find it under ‘R’,” Giles said dryly, “Unless, of course, someone has decided that _that_ should be arranged chronologically within its category as well.”

 

“Oh yes, right,” Wesley nodded, ducking back in between the shelves as Buffy exchanged glances with Giles.

 

He emerged triumphantly a moment later, clutching a small folio to his chest like a talisman.

 

“Kinda small for a compendium isn’t it?” asked Buffy.

 

Wesley glared at her in consternation before leafing through the volume.“Size isn’t everything,” he said pedantically.

 

“Why do I get the feeling that’s something you’ve said before?” _And ew.I can’t believe I just went there.Ew, ew, ew –_

__

“What was that?”Wesley asked, looking up from the book.

 

“Um, nothing,” Buffy said hastily.“So, this symbol.I’m guessing it’s not just a really cool tattoo design?”

 

“Not necessarily,” muttered Giles.“I’ve seen more than one young idiot wind up with the Eye of Grethdin after him because he thought it looked ‘cool’.”

 

“Much better to have a demon after you because you deliberately invoked it, huh Giles?”

 

Giles shot her a warning look, but couldn’t very well say anything in front of Wesley and she allowed herself a small smirk.

 

“Aha!” Wesley exclaimed triumphantly, his finger stabbing violently at the page in front of him.“This particular symbol was used by a sect in the Middle Ages that adapted the Hellenic iconography to their own purposes.It says… my Latin’s a bit rusty, but I believe it’s…something about the moon…”

 

“Oh give me that.”Giles pried the book from Wesley’s resisting fingers and peered at the relevant passage.“It says here that the symbol was one of a series of icons used in spells of fate manipulation or control, and stands for – here we go - ‘fortune reversed.’”

 

“So… it’s a good luck charm?” Buffy hazarded.

 

“Not in the least.While its usage does have a net benefit for the spell-caster, the way it – and the majority of other luck spells, I might add – operates is to bring misfortune to a direct opponent or superior.”

 

“Oh.I guess I should get rid of that rabbit’s foot then.”

 

“This isn’t funny, Buffy,” Giles said earnestly.“Someone is messing with forces they very likely don’t understand and harming who knows how many innocent people in the process.”

 

“We don’t know that, what happened to the ‘someone wanted a cool tattoo’ theory, like those kids with the Eye of Gremlin?” Buffy said, reaching for the slip of paper.

 

“It’s Grethdin, and it doesn’t matter how innocent their intentions might have been, if they’ve used that symbol in any way, their fortunes, as well as the fortunes of those around them, are being influenced unduly.”

 

Wesley, apparently only just cottoning on to the import of the situation pronounced gratingly, “Someone in Sunnydale is attempting to manipulate the hand of fate.I can only imagine the damage that’s been done.”

 

“Like, say, a really good basketball season because the opposing teams all had to sit players out?” asked Buffy.Her voice sounded tinny and far away to her own ears.

 

“I imagine it’s much more serious than that, corporate corruption perhaps or maybe –“

 

“Wes, no, I’m telling you, it’s someone on the basketball team.”

 

She held out the now unfolded piece of paper – which happened to have the basketball teams schedule on the back.

 

***

 

Veronica pulled out her cell phone, glaring at the accusing numerals of the phone’s clock.She’d intended to spend her lunch hour wringing information out of the Sunnydale basketball team, but her ‘trusty’ LeBaron had decided that _now_ was a good time to act up.By the time she’d gotten it started again she’d missed half of World Civ.She sighed and made a mental note to get it looked at sometime soon.

 

She dialed the attendance office, trying to ignore the slight pang she felt when a harried female voice answered.It wasn’t like it would have been Wallace at this hour even if he wasn’t sick.

 

She answered the girl calmly, putting on her most soothing maternal tones.“Hello, this is Sarah Williams, Veronica Mars’ upstairs neighbor, I’m looking after the poor thing while her father’s away and I just wanted to call and let you know that she came home sick after lunch and she’ll be missing the rest of the day.”

 

The girl – clearly anxious to get back to something else – hurried through the rest of the conversation and hung up.

 

Veronica smiled at the sound of the dial tone and reflected that she now had the whole afternoon free.Of course, presumably, the people she wanted to investigate had classes of their own to attend.

 

Ducking into the building she scanned the empty halls.Yup, school was is session. _Okay, think, Veronica.You’re looking for a computer genius with strong connections to the basketball team.Now if only there was a way to borrow their permanent files.I wonder…_

 

She entered the school’s attendance office a few minutes later, a hesitant look on her face.The woman at the desk looked up with a motherly look that was going to make this so much easier.

 

“Can I help you, dear?”

 

“I hope so,” Veronica babbled.“See, I’m applying to this summer program and they want details of like my grades and my extracurriculars and like awards I’ve won and stuff and I’ve got most of it, but I just know there’s stuff I’m forgetting, and I was wondering if maybe there was a way I could look at my permanent file or something?”

 

The woman waited patiently through the recitation before gently interjecting, “Actually dear, all that information is accessible on the school’s website.

 

_Really?That’s very… stalker -friendly._

__

“Wait, are you saying anyone can just look at my file whenever they want?”

 

“No, the details of your file are accessible only to you, although the more basic information is available to your classmates if they use the ‘search by person’ feature.They do of course have to be logged on to verify their student status.To access your own file you simply need to log in using your name and password and click ‘personal file’ on the ‘for students’ page.”

 

Veronica blinked as she tried to digest this torrent of information.

__

She thanked the woman politely as she left, her mind focused on figuring out her next move.The bell rang and the halls quickly filled.Someone jostled her from behind, nearly knocking her over, and she closed her eyes briefly to control her reaction.After all, here they weren’t doing it because they hated her.They were just doing it because they were inconsiderate jerks.Okay, that probably wasn’t going to help her calm down.

 

“Hey, new girl!I mean, Heather.”

 

Veronica looked up to see the guy from last night – the one that wasn’t Mr. Tall, Dark, and Broody – coming up to her.What was his name?Xander, right.

 

“Hi, Xander,” she smiled gamely.

 

“So what class are you heading to?” he asked her.

 

“Actually, I’m looking for the library – it’s my free period and I want to go online for a minute.”

 

“You don’t want to go to the library!The computer there is never available, and in fact I’m pretty sure someone’s using it for training – um, programming training.”He stopped and appeared to be trying to collect himself.“You know what?Why don’t I show you the computer lab?”

 

“Oh, I don’t want you to go out of your way.”

 

“No, please, I like being out of my way.My way is boring and features way too much Trig class.”

 

Veronica grinned and allowed him to direct her down the hallway.

 

***

 

An hour later, Veronica surveyed the results of her search with some satisfaction.Xander had been all too eager to show her how to navigate the school’s website and none to careful about the secrecy of his own password.She wondered what in the world had possessed him to choose “NightHawk.”

 

After he’d finally left to return to class – with maybe twenty minutes left of the school day – she’d run a quick search on the names from the basketball roster that was also located on the website.She really wished she’d had the URL before she’d gone undercover, it would have saved her a world of time and effort.

 

Most of the guys on the team had GPAs that made Caz Truman look like a genius.Presumably, if you had the skills to alter someone’s GPA, you’d want to start with your own. 

 

That left Hogan Martin and Chris Webster.Both on the honor roll along with a host of other clubs including student council.Sunnydale’s own golden boys.

 

Unfortunately, neither of them were on the computer club, although, she reasoned, that didn’t necessarily mean they lacked the skills.Whatever the case, her list just got a lot shorter.

 

The sound of her cell phone, followed almost immediately by the dismissal bell, jolted her out of her thoughts and she pulled the phone out of her bag, grinning automatically – and idiotically, she noted - when she saw the caller ID.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Hey, you weren’t in class this afternoon.”He sounded oddly worried.

 

“Did you miss me?”

 

After a pause he returned her playful tone.“Just disappointed we haven’t gotten to check out any of those mop closets yet.”

 

“And they say romance is dead,” she said dryly as her finger traced the stitches on her bag.

 

Logan laughed quietly into the phone and she tried to ignore the butterflies that always seemed to surface around him.

 

“I just, I wanted to make sure you were okay,” he said soberly, and she realized that the last time she’d left early in the afternoon she’d wound up kidnapped by a federal agent.Of course he was worried.

 

Between the butterflies in her stomach and the way her heart was melting, this was not a good day for her internal organs.

 

“I’m fine.Just had some car trouble. I think the LeBaron’s rebelling.”She kept her tone light.

 

“Ah yes, the coming-of-age drama of a car.You know you should really get that thing replaced.”

 

“When I win the lottery I’ll get right on that.”

 

“Right.”He hesitated, and then offered, “Do you need me to pick you up or something?”

 

“No it’s fine.I got it working again.I’ll need to have it checked out pretty soon, but it’s not a dire emergency.I’m glad you called though.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Yeah.” __

 

“Does that mean I can stop by later tonight?”He sounded absurdly hopeful and she had to resist the urge to laugh. 

 

“I don’t know…” she said teasingly.This was so easy.Being with him.It should be wrong in a thousand different ways and yet it wasn’t.

 

“I’ll make it worth your while,” he promised.Of course, not only was _this_ easy, but _he_ was also easy.

 

She grinned.“That sounds intriguing.”  
  


“Oh it will be.I’ll meet you outside your place at seven?”

 

“What, are you going to honk?What happened to showing up at the door?”

 

“That only happens when the girl’s father doesn’t own a gun.I mean, if they have to arm themselves with a bat or a shovel I at least stand a fighting chance.”

 

“Oh so I should probably mention that my dad’s out of town, huh?”

 

She couldn’t help giggling at the eagerness with which he pounced at that last statement, as he tried to argue that clearly then he _needed_ to come over.Like now.

 

“I’ll think about it,” she said laughingly.

 

“What do you think you’re doing?” asked a sharp voice from the doorway. 

 

She turned to see a short, balding, middle aged man - who in some way reminded her of a rodent – regarding her with a look of outrage.

 

“Do you not know this school’s cell phone policy?”

 

She frowned, “Logan, I’m going to have to call you back in a few minutes.”Off his slightly anxious inquiry she reassured him that, “No I’m fine, I’ll call you back in a few.”Stowing her phone in her bag she returned her attention to rodent man.

 

“Classes are over,” she said in mild confusion.

 

“Are we or are we not on school property?”

 

“Well, we are, but –“

 

“And you aren’t allowed to use your cell phone on school property.I know how you troublemakers are; always thinking the rules don’t apply to you.Next thing you know you’ll be running in the halls, cutting classes, and damaging school property.”He glared at her as his voice continued to rise.“Well, it won’t happen on my watch, missy.I’ll be confiscating that phone now, and you can report to detention.”

 

_You’ve got to be kidding me._

__

 


	7. Killer Crossover: Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Picking up after a 14 year absence, the plot thickens.
> 
> This is a universe where Veronica Mars season 1 and Buffy season 3 are simultaneously occurring. Because if you can't introduce wormholes and time travel into universes with hellmouths, then where can you?

The gang had all gathered in the library where Wesley stood at the top of the stairs, in what was probably his attempt at an impressive pose.  It would have been moderately more successful it they hadn’t watched him practicing it first.

“Oh good, you’re all here.”  His outflung arm knocked over half the display of Romantic poets that Giles had put up in February in a fit of uncharacteristic optimism and then neglected to take down after absolutely no one had checked any of them out.  Wesley froze for a moment, his frame contorting in a full body flinch, before he recovered his equilibrium.  “We need to discuss the developing situation with the basketball team.”

“I thought Giles called this meeting.”  Buffy cocked her head to the side as she studied Wesley. The rest of the group seated themselves around the long table a bit resignedly, already aware that a Wesley-led meeting would be long and less than productive.

“Mr. Giles no longer has any involvement with the Slayer’s deployment.”  Wesley said, attempting masterful, but landing on petulant.

Xander leaned back in his chair.  “It’s nice that he believes that,” he said offhandedly to Willow who merely rolled her eyes and pulled out her AP Bio notes.

“Um, hi, standing right here, actual person, not an army of troops you can go send to defend the Western front.” Buffy said with a sardonic little wave.

“To be fair, those are also made up of actual people.”  Oz put in.  “Most of the time, anyway.”

“We need to discuss the fact that a member of Sunnydale’s basketball team has been delving into the black arts.”  Wesley insisted.

“Why are any of us pretending to be surprised?” Xander asked.  Witchcraft has got to be right up there with video games as our school’s preferred activity of choice.  I’m surprised they don’t have jackets.”

“Hey, possible to explore the mystical side of things without making bargains with demons, you know” Willow protested with a wave of her hi-lighter.

“I think we’ve strayed a bit from the topic of hand.” Wesley said, in the pained voice of a substitute teacher who has realized any hope of control is lost.

“Okay Wes, so what’s your crack plan to stop this free-throw-shooting ne’er do well?”  Buffy didn’t bother to try to mask her skepticism.  “Do they even have basketball in England?”

Well, not as such although really netball demands more skill and finesse," Wesley mumbled. 

“I don’t see why we have to do anything.”

Everyone turned to stare at Cordelia.

“It’s sort of my job.”  Buffy said slowly.  “See evil being done.  Stop it. That’s kind of what I’ve been doing the last few years or so, thanks for joining us.”

Cordelia rolled her eyes. “But it’s not like this is _evil_ evil.”

“She makes a nuanced argument.” Oz nodded.

As was her wont, Cordelia continued as if no one else had spoken.  “I mean the season is almost over – if we just wait till after Friday’s game then the whole thing will be resolved, our team will have won, and Buffy won’t have to do anything at all, right?  And it’s not like anyone’s died.”

“It’s not like anyone’s died.” Xander sniped.  “Now there’s a missed bumper sticker opportunity.”

“Don’t think we’d get to use it much, chess team had two fatalities last week,” Oz remarked.

“See!” Cordelia insisted.  “So why is this particular situation such a big deal?  I mean, I don’t see why we can’t just be happy our school is succeeding at something for once?  Can’t we let this go?”

“Looking the other way, The Cordelia Chase Story.”   Xander framed the phrase out with his hands.

Willow shot Xander a quelling look before turning back to Cordelia.  “We don’t know that whoever it is will stop with just this.  I’ve come across this glyph in my reading before, usage of things like this tend to escalate.  One luck charm or ritual succeeds and they try another and another.  The person winds up literally bargaining with a devil over and over again.  And the higher the stakes the worse the outcomes, not just for the other party but for the accolyte.  That's how people wind up bargaining their souls.”

"Especially if there's a fiddle of gold on the line."  Oz's thumb stroked soothingly over the back of Willow's hand.  

“Where exactly have you been reading about this?”  Wesley asked.

Willow flushed and straightened in her seat.  “Oh, you know, just casually, entirely with the books that Giles gave me access to and not at all in the collection he keeps locked up in the book cage.  I like the learning.  So where is Giles, anyway?”  The last sentence spilled out of her with hardly a space for breath.

Wesley shook his head, a look of contempt crossing his face.

“I believe Mr. Giles is on detention duty.”

***

Veronica needed to get her phone back.  The midget principal had handed it over to the teacher manning detention, telling her she’d get it at the end of the hour and not before.  She’d fought hard to appear contrite, but the principal - Snyder apparently – had been unmoved.  His name was appropriate, she thought, he certainly seemed snide, considering the pleasure he’d taken, not just in her personal less than sunny situation but then in dressing down the perfectly inoffensive – if almost stereotypically bookish - teacher.

_Are those actual elbow patches?_

The absent-minded professor had nodded, appropriately inobservant, when the tinpot tyrant introduced “Another delinquent for you, Mr. Giles,” although Veronica noticed his rather hasty attempt to cover his reading material.  _Interesting._   The book in question looked pretty old which ruled out most classified reading material.  _Is he looking at Victorian pornography or something?_   She could probably get a closer look at the thing on the pretense of sharpening a pencil or something. _Not the point of today’s mission, Veronica._

“You seem to enjoy spending time with the troubled students,” the principal continued, in what he obviously considered to be a dig.  “It seemed only right that you get a chance to truly devote your energies to the cause.”

The other man merely rolled his eyes at this badinage, apparently Snyder was not feared, despite his obvious willingness to abuse authority.  She wondered idly if it would be possible to get him in a room with Lamb.  She could sell tickets.  Hand out popcorn.

“Right, please sit anywhere Ms.  Chandler,” he’d said in a not unappealing British accent, accepting her fake identity at face value.

Veronica had perked up a little when she realized that two members of the basketball team were also on detention.  She recognized one of them from yesterday’s lunchtime foray – where he’d been very much the beta to the alphas of Hogan and Percy.  She couldn’t remember his name – Brian maybe? - but she was interested to see that away from his teammates he carried himself almost completely differently.  Even sprawled back in his chair, he took up far more room than necessary, legs halfway in the aisle, asserting his status to the other, non-basketball-playing detentionites.  The other guy was small and stocky with the kind of thick black glasses that practically begged for bullying.  He didn’t look much like an athlete to her, but he was wearing the same team sweats and letter jacket.  She snagged a seat behind the two of them, giggling a cheerful greeting at probable Brian and giving her best airhead.

When the principal had gone, British guy had surveyed the room somewhat dismally before he addressed their collective situation.  “Right, well, we’re all stuck here until four, unless any of you manages to bring about the apocalypse in the meantime – not that I’m advocating that as a solution – (yet) he added, almost under his breath.  “I suggest you take the time to work on whatever it is that you would normally being doing.  Quietly, please.”

The handful of other students promptly ignored this – rather reasonable - advice, turning to talk amongst themselves.

British guy had hidden back behind the thick leather-bound book he’d been so careful to hide from the Principal, so clearly, he considered his duty as done.

Beta player – who turned out to be Ryan, so she was close - had leaned back toward her with a smile on his face, clearly happy to accept the adulation of the Heathers of the world.  Glasses guy – Eugene, it transpired – obviously his parents hated him – was less sanguine.  He glared her down before turning to chastise his friend for the incident that had landed them in detention. 

The other boy shrugged, serenely oblivious to his friend’s ire.   Although, Veronica supposed it was possible he was dense enough that he actually hadn’t noticed the Eugene’s obvious agitation.  She glanced at her list and confirmed that he was one of the ones with grades so low he'd been at risk of being kicked off his own team, making him a longshot for the saboteur at best, but possibly a good source for information.  Assuming his friend didn't do all the talking for him.  

Ryan smiled at her confidingly before answering Eugene.  “I had to do something with all those fireworks we brought back from the cabin.” he said, like it was obvious.

Eugene shook his head, and Veronica wondered a little at their relationship.  There was something long suffering, almost mothering about Eugene’s treatment of his friend.

“You couldn’t have held off another week?”  Eugene’s exasperation was tinged with resignation, and Veronica suspected he had been pulling Ryan out of scrapes for a long time.

Another shrug.  “What?  Did you see Mr. Tomlinson’s face?  That was hilarious. Totally worth wasting an hour in here.”  Ryan laughed.

Veronica tried to interject with a question about the firework prank, only to get shut down by Eugene.  Veronica tried to decide if she would plant a water bottle or a carefully marked up copy of Moby Dick next to his corpse when she eventually killed him.

“You know it’s important that you get to play in front of those scouts on Friday.” He said, blinking owlishly at the taller boy.  “You’re lucky that all you got was detention.  If someone had gotten hurt from your little adventure…”

“You worry too much, dude, I told you I had it covered.  Anyway, Snyder would never let coach pull me from play for just a little harmless fun.  And you know how much pressure I’ve been under.”

Eugene slammed his hand on the desk, more emphatically than he probably meant to.  The low chatter in the room dropped away as everyone turned to stare at him.  The teacher looked up from his... ancient copy of the Kama Sutra? with quite a solid glare of disapproval, and Eugene smiled a nervous, insincere smile before turning back to his friend. “I’ve worked really hard to make sure you stay on the team and make a good impression on those scouts.  Don’t throw this opportunity away.”

“You’ve worked hard?” Ryan scoffed.  “I make my own opportunities.  I've been busting my butt over here.  You’re the water boy, man.”

“Equipment manager,” Eugene corrected, stiffly, and Veronica smothered a grin.

“Whatever."

Veronica realized suddenly that she wasn’t the only one showing an interest in the conversation between the two teens.  British professor guy was doing a blatantly bad job of eavesdropping. _I’ve got to figure out this guy’s deal_.  She tapped her pen in a staccato rhythm on the desk top as she weighed the possibilities.

Eugene glared over his shoulder at her again and she smiled the smile that would have had any sensible 09er nervously checking his belongings for sabotage. 

Perhaps it was stereotyping, but she felt reasonably cheered by the arrival of this new suspect.  Eugene obviously had motive, and while glasses did not a computer nerd make, his talk of helping Ryan stay on the team and impress the scouts raised a red flag or three.  She needed to call Mac, see if the added info could help her fine tune whatever she was searching.

And to do that, she needed her phone back.

She made her way to the front of the classroom, glancing down instinctively at the mystery book.  “Rites of Fortune, Practices and Rituals, a Compendium.”  Huh.  Distracted, Veronica amused herself, wondering first, what had attracted such a buttoned up seeming guy to such a woo-woo kind of subject, and then further, why in the world he would feel the need to hide it.

_Planning to play the ponies? Hit the Vegas strip?_

Mr. Giles coughed lightly, dragging her attention back to him.  “Can I help you miss…” the man paused, obviously having forgotten her name – or rather ‘name’.

“I hope so,” Veronica said, her smile this time carefully benign edging into anxious.  “I’m supposed to be at a doctor’s appointment this afternoon – I was actually confirming with the receptionist when Principal Snyder confiscated my phone. I didn’t realize we weren’t allowed to have our phones out after classes were over - I’m new,” she addded, palm to chest.  “And now I’m worried I’m going to miss my appointment and it took forever to schedule in the first place.  Is there any way I could go to my appointment and finish detention tomorrow instead?”  She watched the teacher’s stern expression waver as she continued babbling, feeling confident of success, until a protest came from back where she had been sitting.

“Hey, we all have places to be, what makes you think you’re so special?”

Eugene again.  She was really starting to hate that guy.

Veronica forced herself to blink innocently, reminding herself that pulling out her tazer at this juncture would be counter-productive.  Underlined Moby Dick for sure.  And a dirty knife.  He didn't deserve a clean one.  “Oh, I didn’t mean -”

Mr. Giles appeared to come to a decision.  “Much as I would like to indulge you miss…”

Again, the hesitation. “Heather,” she said, smiling generously.

“Heather, yes,” the man blinked.  “Much as I would like to help you, I’m afraid you do need to serve out your detention as writ.”

Right.  Well, she supposed that one was a long shot.  She decided to make one more stab at things.  “Can at least call them back to try to reschedule then?  My mom is going to be really mad if I just miss it completely.”  She gave her best Disney gaze.  “I won’t be more than five minutes, I promise.”

Mr. Giles’s eyes narrowed, and he studied her suspiciously, but he capitulated.  Of course, he capitulated.  The Bambi eyes were irresistible even to the forewarned.

She grabbed her phone like the prize it was and stepped into the hallway – claiming that her call to the doctor was about lady troubles.  The poor teacher had blanched and waved her out into the hallway with unbecoming haste.

Six missed calls from Logan.  _Well, shit_. 

Apparently interrupted phone calls were going to be a bit of a trigger for him for a while.  She glanced at the door.  She could probably take a few minutes under the theory that she’d been put on hold by the doctor’s office, or that they’d transferred her when she’d tried to reschedule.  Of course, since this wasn’t actually her school she could always risk just walking away…

She’d call Mac in a minute.  First, she dialed Logan’s number and tried not to notice the muscle memory that kicked in, from back when they were friends, and a phone call was just that. 

He picked up before the first ring had even ended.

“Where are you?”

“This is how you answer the phone?” she teased.  “Were you raised in a barn?”  There was maybe a twenty percent chance that she could distract him by keeping things light and playful.  Or fifteen, at least.

“Veronica.”  

Part of her thrilled at his concern.  She tried to ignore the other part, the part that snapped with resentment at his presumption, that insisted he’d forfeited his right to worry a long time ago.

“I’m fine,” she said, as soothingly as she could.  “This is a completely non-dangerous situation.”  Veronica glanced at the doorway to the detention room, then scanned the hallway looking for the Principal.  The last thing she needed was to get busted twice in a row.  Surely at that point permanent records would be invoked and someone would be bound to notice that she wasn’t actually a Sunnydale student.  Unfortunately, there was no convenient place to hide, and her ‘office’ was clear in another town. 

“Not exactly answering the question.  Tell me where you are, and I’ll come get you.” Logan’s voice was sharp with worry and the too familiar edge of anger.

“Logan…”

“Please Veronica.”

She closed her eyes against his unwelcome vulnerability, and tried to bring her mind back to the situation at hand.  It was too ridiculous to explain.  She should have just texted him and then called Mac like she’d planned.  “I’m actually in detention,” she admitted, finally.

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. 

“You weren’t even in classes all day, how in the world did you end up in detention?”  The worry in Logan’s voice had all but been replaced with a healthy dose of incredulity and just a smidge of humor.

“Um, I attended my morning classes, which I think we both know is more than enough time to land me in detention,” she retorted, before continuing, “And anyway, I’m not exactly at Neptune.”

“Understanding this less the longer this conversation goes on.”

Veronica sighed.

“I’m sort of on a case at another high school.  Apparently, my cover is really believable.”

He laughed then, a short sharp bark of laughter and Veronica bit her lip around her smile.  “Only you could get detention at a school you don’t even attend.” She could practically see him shaking his head, probably making elaborate hand gestures while he was at it. “Wait, did you actually go to the detention?  Why didn’t you just leave?”

It was a reasonable question, especially since she suspected the Sunnydale case would come down to Mac’s cyber sleuthing and not her own distinctive skillset.  But there was nothing appealing about the thought of going back home and sitting tight while Wallace was miserable. “I might need to maintain this cover for another couple of days.  I don’t need anyone looking too hard at my comings and goings – and disappearing mid-detention would definitely attract the wrong kind of attention.”

“But placing a phone call in the middle of it where you refer to your cover is totally hunky dory?  I must have missed that day of spy school.”

There was a muffled whumpf in the background.  Trying to place it, Veronica found herself less than thrilled with the telephone as conversational medium.  Body language was something like seventy percent of communication for your regular human being, let alone a born fidgeter and drama queen like Logan.

“I stepped outside to place a very important call.  You’re my doctor, by the way.”

Okay, she might have thought a little more carefully before lobbing that one over the plate, she realized, cheeks heating before he'd even spoken.  He shouldn’t have been able to transmit glee silently over the phone, and yet, it radiated through the line with an almost physical warmth.

“If you’d wanted to play doctor-“ his voice had dropped a register in a way that was entirely appealing, not that she would let him know it.  She cut him off.

“Don’t even think about finishing that thought.  And it was your fault I got detention anyway.  Apparently, cell phones are taboo here.”

“You infiltrated an Amish school?”

Veronica rolled her eyes at the phone, which he of course couldn’t see, but which she hoped he could feel.  Could he read her the way she could read him?  Did she really even want that?  She tsked.  “This from the guy who uses the phrase hunky dory.”

“So, what’s the plan?” he asked.

“What are you talking about?”  She’d missed a step somewhere.  Possibly several.

“You need busting out?  I could smuggle you a cake with a file in it.  Assuming I can find a file.  And a cake.”

Veronica smirked.  “No worries.  I've got a pretty solid new suspect, I think.  Just looking for a little bit of proof and I’ve got a girl for that.”

“I could sit on a park bench with a newspaper and a fedora waiting for the code word?”

“I feel like you’re a little confused about what my profession entails.”

She expected more pouting, more teasing from the apparently twelve-year-old Logan who had taken over the call, but he suddenly turned serious again.

“Look, tell me where you are and I’ll pick you up.”

“I have my car here, nitwit.”  His answering sigh was thunderous, because why undercut the drama when you could overdo it?

“I suppose that tin can would technically get around the Amish’s no electronics rules.” He mused.  “It uses rubber bands, right?”

“Hanging up now,” she sing-songed.

“No, wait.”  He paused again, and then his words spilled out, a little too fast.  “Don’t let them take your phone again, okay?  If you have to give them something, give them one of the six zillion burners I know you have.  And if anything happens – even something stupid or minor, you call.  Shit, call even if nothing happens.  I won’t – I’ll have my phone on.”

“Goodbye, Logan.”  She said, as gently as she could, smiling a little to herself as she hung up the phone only to look up to find the detention teacher staring down at her with his eyebrows raised. The wooly absent-minded look was gone. Even his posture had changed. The whole  act was a form of camouflage, she realized.  She’d taken the walking stick for granted and hadn’t noticed the sword concealed within.

His eyes on her were keen, even through the glasses, and she took a half a step back. “Interesting.  Perhaps you can explain what in that conversation qualified as a medical emergency.”

Shit.  Shit shit shit.

She clutched at the bag she was glad she’d had the foresight to bring out into the hallway with her.  Somehow, she doubted she’d be going back in to retake her seat.  She reached for bravado.  “Were you trying to eavesdrop on a student's private medical information?  Because I feel like there are laws about that.”

He nodded.  “There might be, if you were a student.”  His smile was a threat.  “Perhaps we should start over, and this time you'll tell me your real name.”

Veronica shrugged and took another step away from him, careful to keep open hallway behind her.  “If I'm not a student, then you don't have any hold over me whatsoever, so I think I'll just say sayonara and leave you to your book of rituals.  What’s up with that, by the way?  Floating craps game?  Fantasy football?  Pai gow?” 

He ignored the question.  “Perhaps I might not have the proper cudgel to hand, but I'm sure the authorities would love to know why you're posing as a Sunnydale high student.”

Her eyebrow rose at that.  “The same authorities that assigned me detention without questioning my enrollment?  Because I wouldn't say attention to detail is their strongest asset.  Not to mention, they didn't seem to like you all that much.”  She tilted her head, considering.   “Or did you mean the local police department?  Because my suspicion is that if they dance to someone's tune, it's not yours.”

His eyes narrowed, and, if anything he looked more dangerous.  She couldn’t believe she’d ever fallen for the musty professor act.  This was a man who wouldn’t hesitate to strike if he thought it necessary.

“Is that it?” he asked, and the words were a growl.  “You're here for him?  Because we will stop him.”

Veronica had been threatened a lot over the last year and a half.  But finality in this guy’s voice stopped her dead.  She didn’t know his deal, but she needed to get out of here, sooner, rather than later.

She smiled brightly.  “Not sure who _him_ is, but it’s good that you have a plan.  You should totally stick with that.  I'm going to leave now.” 

She hooked her thumb behind her and fled.

He didn’t follow.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrolling. Tailing suspects. All roads lead to the cemetery.

“Buffy will patrol as usual.  Three hours of strategy and this is what we came up with.  Me.  Patrolling.  Like basketball boy is going to be haunting Restfield cemetery.” 

Buffy fiddled idly with the stake in her hands, twirling it one direction and then the other.  The balance was a shade off from ideal - Oz's work from the feel of it – if she needed to throw it, she’d have to compensate.  And the polish on her index finger was chipping, which, considering she’d only done her nails just last night was just unfair.

Angel gave that barely there smile of his even as his eyes scanned the cemetery for movement.  “Nothing more on the Mayor’s ascension?”

Buffy quirked her head as she considered.  “Well, there’s a possible development there.  Maybe.”

That was the real reason the meeting had gone on as long as it had.  As longwinded and into subheadings as Wesley was, she was confident they could have wrapped things up in under an hour if Giles hadn’t come back from detention duty with the bombshell that the new girl wasn’t actually a student at all, but someone working for the mayor.

She eyed Angel.  “Do you remember the girl you were talking to last night at the Bronze?” 

The one you smiled and laughed with like she was me? she didn’t say.

She was proud of her light non-accusatory tone.  Because she trusted him and believed it when he said he had made a mistake when he approached the girl, even though was a little annoying that he only ever accidentally socialized with really gorgeous girls. 

His face remained blank, uncomprehending, like he’d forgotten all about the adorable infiltrator.  She shook her head at herself, before continuing.  “Turns out she’s not a new student.  In fact, she’s not a student at all.”

Angel looked like he was still trying to place the girl.  Because he chatted with so many girls last night that he couldn’t figure out which one she was talking about?  Ugh.  This was stupid.  Still.  For a nationally ranked lurker, he wasn't nearly as much of a loaner as he maintained.

She continued.  “Giles thinks she’s working with the Mayor - something she said triggered his Watcher paranoia.”  She brightened.  “Although I suppose she could be a third and completely different evil that I have to deal with because the universe really wants to test my multitasking abilities.”

Last year, before everything had gone to hell - and how unfair that that was basically literal- she and Willow had spent one very silly evening eating way too much cookie dough and cataloging and ranking Angel's frowns.  The frown he was wearing now shifted from a two - “I'm trying to remember if we actually talked about this” to a seven - “suspicious of evildoers."  The latter one was a lot more forehead-y.  “So, what, was she supposed to get close to you to sway you to the dark side?"

Buffy smiled, a little ruefully.  “Because I am the biggest people person these days. No, if that was her goal, she was really bad at it. We barely met, you probably talked to her longer than I did.”  She had to stop bringing that up.  

She shrugged, and began to twirl the stake in a half-remembered pattern from color guard, back from the days when school spirit didn't mean some dead student was haunting the place.  “She’s been making the rounds of the school, unsurprisingly making inroads with the boys, because... boys.  Ticked off Cordelia royally basically for existing as far as I could see, you know she hates other predators at the watering hole."  She fumbled the stake a little bit and remembered why she had dropped color guard even before she'd become the slayer.   She continued.  "She cozied up to the basketball team more than anyone else actually, which might be status seeking?  Hard to say without a clear bead on what she was actually after.  She had Xander show her how to access the student directory though, so clearly there is a there there.”

Angel's frown lighted to a 3 - the skeptical frown.  “And you think she’s working for the mayor?  Wouldn’t he already have access to that kind of information?  Or have people for that?  The man doesn’t seem to be lacking in lackeys.”

Buffy shrugged.  “A little tough to say at this point.  Basically, we know she’s shady, without having the least idea as to why.  And since the mayor is the shadiest dude in town these days it was a natural conclusion to draw.  Giles was apparently less than subtle with his suspicions, so whatever the plan was, it’s probably already changed.  So, we're still in a holding pattern there.  Nothing new on the Faith front either.  Giles is researching the ascension itself, but we need more to go on than the oodles of nothing we’re currently working with.  Fortunately, I have plenty to distract me what with rogue basketball players and college admissions letters due.”

“You need a stroke of luck.”

If she had been the one making that pun, she would have milked it for all it was worth.  Angel almost let it slip by entirely.   She shot him a sideways glance and nodded.

“Exactly.  Only apparently that’s evil now.  No more four-leaf clovers for me.”

Angel screwed his face up, considering.  When he spoke at last, his vowels had changed slightly, the way they tended to the few times he’d talked of his human past.  “I wouldn’t say evil exactly, but certainly dangerous.  The Fae keep their bargains, but seldom in a way that ends well for the mortal involved.  They enjoy interrupting mortal lives, and the luck they do grant comes with some serious strings that grow greater over time.

Buffy raised an eyebrow.  “The Fae?”

 “Fairie.”  He smiled apologetically, and raised gave half a shrug.  “Demons of luck, for good or ill.”

“Like leprechauns?” she asked, oddly charmed by the thought

Angel closed his eyes in a weary, patient response, and for a moment she felt his age.  

Usually he felt – ageless.  He was just Angel and she was Buffy, and age didn’t enter into it.  But when he closed his eyes like that, she felt every one of his two hundred and forty odd years and she was nothing more than some dumb kid.  It was like Giles’s disappointment, but magnified and she wriggled her shoulders like she could shrug it off.

He opened his eyes again, and smiled at her.  The feeling passed, but didn’t quite fade away.

“Like the Bean Nighe, the Aos Sidhe, fetches, pukas, fear deargs.  Most act as omens for the evil they create, but some do like to bargain.  It doesn’t generally end well.”

Buffy filed the information away, deciding she didn’t really need to know how he knew that. An objection occurred to her.  “Giles said luck spells cause bad luck for those around the caster.”

Angel nodded.  “Oh, they do that as well.  But that doesn’t mean they don’t demand a price of the supplicant.  And then, if the caster isn’t careful, they’ll turn the luck around on them.  Punishment for a mortal having the temerity to demand anything of them in the first place.   Luck demons are also pretty big into exact words You’ve heard the stories – guy wishes for long life and gets turned into a tree, that sort of thing.  Even if someone’s really careful in their phrasing, the gifts they give have a tendency to warp the recipient, consuming them over time.  Just the strain of going through the nightly ritual has probably drained a year or two off this kid’s life already.”

“Nightly ritual?”

“If they’ve maintained their luck for more than a day, then they’re absolutely continuing the ritual.  Faerie gold always turns to dust or leaves overnight.”

Buffy narrowed her eyes in suspicion.  “Okay, now I know you’re talking about Leprechauns.”

***

Veronica sighed as she took a sip of her decidedly subpar coffee.  The jury was still out on whether Eugene was an evil mastermind, but what he definitely was was boring.

Mac had so far failed to trace the grade manipulations back to the source – something she sounded increasingly frustrated about - so Veronica had been tailing the kid for most of the evening, and he’d yet to swirl a black cape or tie anyone to any train tracks.

Veronica grimaced around another sip.  She knew this was a case where her basic stakeout wasn’t likely to flush out the bad guy but she couldn’t face the thought of going home and spinning her heels.

Wallace was still home sick and miserable.  When she last saw him, he’d been pretty out of it, something about a demon taking his strength away.  Alicia was freaked, and it was hard not to succumb to worry.  She needed a displacement activity, and unless a better suspect came along, Eugene Morgan was it. 

She’d ran his background check, and found that he was Ryan’s cousin.  His own parents had died in some sort of an animal attack when Eugene was a kid, and the two boys had been raised together.  Good grades, almost no extracurricular activities before he signed on to help the basketball team.  His records were pretty clean, and each of the incidents he’d been involved in, they had been with Ryan. 

Ryan’s records were a little more colorful, having been stopped for everything from speeding to public urination (which, ew) but he seemed to have managed to get off with a warning most of the time.  He was sitting on a pretty dismal GPA, barely high enough to keep him on the team, but was riding the high of his team’s success to a probable scholarship because America definitely had its priorities straight when it came to such things.

She was having a devil of a time finding an inroad into this case.  All roads led back to Sunnydale, but no one on the Sunnydale team was bragging about sidelining the enemy.  Either she’d found the one group of high school boys capable of restraint, or someone had twigged to her identity.  And that incident with the teacher earlier had been a total disaster. 

Being tiny and blonde usually worked for her, darn it.  Granted, not with people in Neptune, most of whom who actually knew better at this point, but with the general populace, at least, people’s default impression of harmless and adorable usually gave her room to work.  And yet in Sunnydale, every other person seemed to be sizing her up and assessing her threat level. Accurately.

It was unsettling. 

She glared at the dark head on the stocky figure three tables to her left as if Eugene could be blamed for this circumstance. 

So far this evening, he had hauled a massive stack of practice pennies and towels to a laundromat before spending an inordinate amount of time considering the merits of Gatorade and Powerade.  Powerade won, but he got yellow and not blue, which honestly should be all the evidence she needed to prove the guy was evil.

He’d followed up on that adventure by spending three hours at this sad excuse for a coffee shop pretending to study while staring at the pretty – and oblivious – barista.  Trips to the bathroom had offered an opportunity to check his stuff, but it resulted in bupkis.  No laptop, and he wasn’t dumb enough to leave his phone on the table.  His notebooks revealed he was probably doing his cousin’s homework as well as his own, but it was a leap to go from that to changing grades and engineering car accidents.

She needed something on him if she was going to get him to incriminate himself – or someone else - about changing the grades of the Neptune players, and so far she was coming up frustratingly empty. 

She was debating whether she should pick up a pastry – the cheese Danish at least looked better than the swill they were passing as Columbian roast – when he snapped his notebook shut, and made his way out the door with what seemed to be unreasonable haste.  Veronica hitched her bag over her shoulder and followed.

Eugene wound his way through half a dozen streets and alleys in a meandering route and she almost lost him several times, even as she followed as closely as she dared on the all but deserted streets.  After twenty minutes they came to what she thought at first was a park, until she’d passed the first coupled of headstones, and she realized it was a graveyard.   

Veronica felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

By day, Sunnydale was picture postcard perfect, if a touch on the saccharine side.  By night it was another story.  The temperature had dropped at least twenty degrees in the past hour, and dense fog had settled over the ground – and since when was southern California known for its fog?  Menacing shapes loomed out of the mist before resolving themselves into statuary, trees, and even the occasional mausoleum.  Veronica hadn’t felt so jumpy since she was twelve and had stayed up till one in the morning reading the Haunting of Hill House.  She’d spent the rest of the night being menaced by the bathrobe on the back of her door.

She reached her hand into her messenger bag, feeling the reassuring weight of her tazer as she eyed up a particularly shifty looking bench.  She wanted nothing more than to go home and cuddle Backup, but a late-night trip to the graveyard was far too suspect to ignore. 

She weighed the odds of a drug deal versus an assignation – the latter seemed unlikely given the lack of response from barista-girl.  Either scenario might give her the leverage she needed to start knocking down some dominoes.  She stepped carefully round a sad little grave dedicated to a two-year-old when she looked up and realized she’d lost him.  Shit.  He’d gone behind the little crypt that proclaimed itself the final resting place of the Espenson family and hadn’t come out the other side.

Was he meeting someone _in_ the crypt?  If so, her chances of getting any usable ammo while remaining unobserved were dwindling.  The thing had no window or, from what she could see, anything but the one entrance.  Which made since, as it was a crypt and all, and therefore probably not designed for heavy thru-traffic.

“Why are you following me?”

Veronica concentrated on not jumping out of her skin as she turned to face her quarry.  He only had a couple of inches on her, but that translated to maybe forty pounds, and the look on his face was enough to make her flinch.

Shit.  Shit shit shit.

Her fingers closed tighter around her stun gun as she stepped instinctively away from him.

Veronica smiled brightly, projecting harmlessness as hard as she could.  “Oh hi, its Eugene, right?  From detention?  I still can’t believe I got detention in my first week, that has to be some kind of record.  Although, between you and me, I think the Principal needs to calm down just a smidge?  It was a cell phone, not a bottle of vodka.  Anyway, I’m so glad I ran into you – I was out for a walk and I must have gotten turned around or something.”  

He glared at her, hard and suspicious.  Was she overdoing the uptalk?  For some reason no one in Sunnydale was falling for her helpless tiny blonde shtick.  It was really throwing her game. 

“You just happened to be heading to the cemetery?” he bit the words out.

She was ready to go on the offensive, when she noticed the writing on the gravestone he was standing by.  Harold and Tess Morgan, beloved parents.  Damn it.  Now she was going to finish the evening feeling like a horrible monster.  Which would be fine if it hadn’t been accidental. Although, wasn’t it still weird to be visiting your parents grave at night?  She’d bet this place was lovely and peaceful in the afternoon. 

She absently picked at a hangnail as she considered her options. 

 An apology would have the merit of being semi-sincere, but would do nothing to determine Eugene’s guilt with regard to the basketball team shenanigans.  It wasn’t as if the last year hadn’t driven home that a person could be a victim of horrible circumstances and still be a terrible human being. Even if he was a good kisser.  Okay, that though process was probably less than helpful.

She decided to wing it.

She launched into an elaborate, if wholely BS’d, explanation about being abandoned by her new friend Cordelia who’d left with some guy, even though she knew she didn’t have a ride.  Eugene’s expression had thawed, marginally, though she wouldn’t have said he was actually buying it – possibly he was just willing to believe the worst of Cordelia? - when a tiny brunette in a head band and a long Laura Ashley-esque dress came barreling out of nowhere.  Veronica stared. There was something terribly wrong with the girl’s face.

Eugene screamed and the girl – was she a girl?  Could you call that a girl? – turned on him, open mouth displaying a set of teeth that wouldn’t have been out of place on Backup.

What the actual fuck.

Time seemed expand so that there was space between each second.  Veronica noticed that the girl-monster-thing was wearing low-heeled white sandals which suited the dress in that no one should have worn either in the last twenty years.  She had a tiny useless little purse slung crossbody and pearl studs in her ears.  If you ignored her face, she could be the mousy brainiac in an eighties teen flick.  Veronica was trying very hard to ignore the face.

Eugene hadn’t stopped screaming.  He stumbled as he backed away from the creature, and fell over one of those little flower-stands that dotted the cemetery.  Veronica flinched as his side clipped a gravestone on the way down but he seemed to barely register what must have been a painful fall.  He was still screaming.    Looking down, she noticed her hand was still half inside her bag, and with a jolt she realized that she was still holding her Taser.

Right.

Every instinct was screaming at her to flee, but she stepped forward, pulling her Taser free.  Immediately the thing turned on her, grabbing her with far more upper body strength than the musty pink floral thing she had on would suggest.  Probably a symptom of monsterdom, but it would help with the eventual makeover her eighties movie character was bound to get.  A vision of that face made up with frosted eyeshadow and pale pink lipstick struck her suddenly and she almost giggled.  The part of her mind that was still working decided she was probably hysterical.  The rest was white noise.

The thing - the vampire, she realized with a snap of recognition that wasn’t remotely comforting - was bending toward her neck, teeth wide and terrifying, pulling her close in a vise grip.  Veronica closed her eyes and squeezed the trigger.

The thing released her and staggered back, but didn’t actually go down.  Veronica was reviewing her options – realizing she didn’t really have any – when a blonde blur came out of nowhere.

Her first thought was panic at there being another one of them, but then she realized that the blonde girl’s face hadn’t changed.  And that rather than going after her or Eugene, she was dealing some fairly impressive kicks to the brunette vampire’s midsection.

Seeming to have shaken off her shock, the vampire returned blow for blow, and Veronica wondered if she should, or even could, try to help when she saw movement out of the corner of her eye.

This one was definitely a vampire, a guy this time, with dark spiky hair.  Taser still in hand, Veronica didn’t even think.  Just as she had seen Mandy do last week, she shocked the guy again and again until he went down. 

The other girl had produced a stake – an actual stake – from out of nowhere and efficiently thrust it into the chest of the female vampire, who exploded in a cloud of dust.

The blood thrummed in Veronica’s ears and she concentrated on keeping the creature down.  He wasn’t moving, but she wasn’t feeling ready to take chances.  Hopefully fighter girl would come stake him soon so she could go very very far away from this place and never come back.

Another sound cut across the noise, Veronica blinked, she couldn’t make it out.  Then she realized it was the other blonde girl, yelling at her to stop.

***

A million angry thoughts were rushing through Buffy’s head as the imposter glanced up from where she was calmly electrocuting Angel.  She pulled the girl away from him, barely registering the yelp of pain the other gave, plucking the Taser from her hand and crushing it in her palm.

Deal with Angel first or the Mayor’s accomplice?

She looked him over and was relieved to see he was ‘breathing’ – the involuntary muscle movements he reverted to under stress that mimicked breath, even as they no longer served a biological purpose.  Like a vampire appendix she thought.  He always insisted she was making them up, and since she couldn’t exactly point him to a mirror, the argument persisted.  Tonight, she was grateful for them. 

He’d recover.

She rounded on the other girl, who might not make it through the night.

“The hell do you think you’re doing?”  she yelled.  Her voice was a little shriller than she was happy with.

Heather, or whatever her real name was, was studying her with apparent fascination and not nearly enough fear.

“What are you?”

As always, the question irked her. Like in being the slayer she’d stopped being a person and become a thing.  A curiosity.  Given her boyfriend’s current state, it would behoove the other girl to try not to do any irking.  She glared.

“Could ask you the same question.  I know what you aren’t.  You aren’t a Sunnydale high student.”

The other girl shook her head in disbelief.

“Right.  Because that’s on a par with what I just saw.”  She looked over at where Angel lay prone and then back at the spot where the John Hughes vamp’s little purse lay on the ground.  She cocked her head, and nodded at Buffy.  “I would say we’re about the same size and I’m pretty sure I could train for years and not be able to force a stick of wood through something’s ribcage.  Given that vampires obviously exist, what are you?”

The question sounded sincere, but Buffy wasn’t interested in a conversation on the relative bone densities of the undead. She shot another glance at Angel, making sure blondie wasn’t just serving as distraction while he managed to get himself kidnapped again.  Still there.  Still unconscious.

“Didn’t your boss fill you in?”  Buffy spat. 

If she’d been hoping to get the other girl to spill, she’d failed.  Not-Heather looked confused.  “My boss is my dad, and a) he doesn’t know I’m here, and b) he’s in really big trouble if he’s been hiding the existence of vampires from me for years.”  Her eyes grew wide and she added hopefully.  “Oh, please tell me unicorns are real too.”

Buffy blinked.  Once again, the words felt genuine.  But then, just because most demons sucked at lying didn’t mean they all did, right?

She took a half step back and adjusted her posture to a mere mildly-threatening.

“Why have you been posing as a Sunnydale student?” she persisted. 

“What makes you think it’s a pose?” the other asked.  Definitely not frightened enough.  Which if she really was new to the concept of vampires and demons was suspicious in and of itself.

Buffy gritted her teeth.  “Okay, let’s try this again, remembering that I could literally throw you over that crypt if I don’t like the answers.”

Tazer-girl just sighed.  “This town really goes for the physical threats doesn’t it.  I suppose it makes a change from psychological torment.”  She cocked her head as she studied Buffy.  “Yeah, you could obviously kick my ass six ways to Sunday, which would only encourage me to ruin your life, by the way, but you won’t.  You don’t – whatever you are – you don’t fight humans, do you?”

Buffy tightened her lips into a thin line.  “I fight evil.”

“Okay, so we’re good,” tazer-girl said brightly.  “Last I checked I wasn’t evil.  Although if you have any down time, I know a few surfer guys and a cheerleader or two who definitely fall into that category.”

Buffy suppressed a half growl in her throat.  Getting answers from this chick was like trying to carve rock.  For a second Buffy wondered if she should consider the violent option, but sadly, the other girl was right.  As long as she wasn’t posing a physical danger, she couldn’t see herself following through on her threat.

“You’ve yet to convince me that you don’t fall into that category.” 

 “And I’m normally such a persuasive person.”  The other girl sighed and stuck her fingers in the pockets of her jeans.  “Okay, long story short, I’m sort-of a private investigator.”

Buffy felt her eyebrows rise to her hairline.  “You like you’re my age.  And you’re a PI?  Do you have a license?” 

“That’s the sort-of part.  Also, I like that I could apparently be working for whatever big-league evil makes vampire hunters nervous, but somehow private detective flags your bullshit detectors?”

“Slayer.”  Buffy relented.

The other frowned.  “Are we talking bands now?  Cause I’m not a huge fan, to be honest.”

“Not Vampire hunter.  Vampire slayer.” Buffy clarified.  “That’s what I am.”

The other girl looked up from the marks she’d been examining on her arm – marks Buffy had probably put there she realized, with a touch of chagrin.  Not-Heather nodded, apparently accepting the title at face value.  “My dad has the license,” she offered.  “I help out, from time to time. If you’re stuck on the legalities, you could consider me more of a private consultant.” She flashed a quicksilver smile.  “The state of California hasn’t yet seen fit to regulate who can call themselves a consultant.”

“What are you doing in Sunnydale?”  Buffy asked.

“You know, I would have figured the whole “vampires exist and I fight them” to be the item of note from our meeting.”

“Sorry, for me that’s old news.  Whereas you’re shiny and new.”

The other girl’s chin jutted out and a wave of emotion marred her otherwise truly impressive mask of indifference.  Even mid-vamp attack, she’d only seemed mildly perturbed. “I’m here because of Wallace Fennel.”

Buffy blinked.  “Should I know who that is?.”

“He’s a Neptune basketball player.  He’s starting point guard for our team, and he’s sick.  Actually, half a dozen members of his team are suddenly unable to play just in time for the match against your team.  A pattern that seems to have been repeating itself for your school’s whole season, as far as I can tell.”  Her voice got a little quieter.  “He’s my friend.”

Buffy nodded as comprehension dawned.  “You know about the luck spell.”

The other girl started and stared at her like she’d just spoken gibberish. So maybe she’d gotten it wrong. 

“There’s a spell?  As in an actual magic spell?  You’re telling me a witch did this?”  The PI shook her head disbelievingly.  “Okay, so so far, we’ve got vampires and witches and don’t think I haven’t noted the apparent refusal to confirm the whole unicorn thing.” 

Buffy couldn’t help but smile at that one.  Honestly, she wished she had an answer on that, but she would have been heartbroken to learn that they existed but were evil, so she’d never asked Giles. 

“Well that just made my mission a lot more difficult,” the other girl continued.  “I don’t know that the administration is going to buy that these guys grades were magically changed.”

An objection occurred to Buffy.  “If you didn’t think there was a spell involved, what were you doing here?”

“Do you guys normally look for magical answers to your problems?”  The girl was giving her that look again.  Studying her like she was a specimen under a microscope, or perhaps a member of some ancient civilization that she’d never expected to see in real life.

Buffy simply shrugged.  She’d long ago accepted the basic weirdness of life on the Hellmouth.  “More than you’d think.”

The other girl – she really needed to get her actual name – shook her head.  “I was looking for the hacker that changed some guys grades, and possibly the saboteur who messed with the team captain’s car.  I wasn’t looking for a witch.  Or wizard.  Sorcerer?”  A thought appeared to strike her, and she grew serious.  “Wait, does that mean Wallace’s illness-”

Buffy winced.  “Is connected?  Probably.  And it might not be a spell so much as a bargain with a demon.”

“Oh good.  That’s much better.”  Her matter of fact tone made Buffy want to laugh, and she realized she was starting to like this girl.  She really hoped she didn’t turn out to be evil.

“I’m Buffy by the way,” she offered.  She saw the flicker across the other girl’s face as she considered commenting on her name.  Fortunately, she suppressed whatever witty remark had occurred to her.  It wasn’t like Buffy hadn’t heard them all already.

“Veronica.  Veronica Mars.”

Okay, it was a start.  They might not be exchanging friendship bracelets of anything and Veronica did still attack her boyfriend – although honestly it seemed like a lot of her friends did that at some point, she might have to consider the implications of that detail later on, but at least they didn’t actually appear to be on opposite sides.

“So, any suggestions how I take down someone who is either a witch or has a demon on their side?”  Veronica asked.

“You don’t, I do. It’s my job.”

“Yeah, I’m not really the sit on the sidelines type.”

Buffy sighed.  She was getting really tired of this argument.  For some reason every joe off the street assumed they could do her job, which was honestly a little insulting when one considered the amount of time she put into training – even before the whole mystical powers aspect. 

“I can’t let random civilians in on a fight,” Buffy explained as patiently as she could, given that she’d had this conversation far too many times.  “You could get hurt.  Someone else could get hurt trying to protect you.” 

The other girl’s eyes narrowed briefly.  Then her face cleared, and she shrugged.  “Okay, I guess I’ll have to figure it out on my own.  Toodles.”

“This isn’t a joke.”

“I wasn’t laughing.  It’s great that you think you have the monopoly on terror in your town, and I will grant you that you appear to deal with a slightly more colorful version of evil than I’m used to, but my friend apparently wasn’t hallucinating when he said there was a demon taking his strength, so if I have to physically beat that demon back to hell, that’s what I’m going to do.  Granted I’ve never actually dealt with a demon before,” the girl paused and seemed to consider “But, actually, my ex-boyfriend’s mother is probably as close as you can come without using a summoning circle or something.  Anyway, I have to try.”

Damn nobility.  So honorable and so stupid.  Buffy frowned as her mind registered the one new piece of info in that little monologue.

“Wait, your friend said that?  He saw the demon?”

“We just thought his fever was spiking.  But yeah.”

“Do you think he could describe it?  Or draw it?”

“I have no idea, but I could check.  Assuming that means I’m allowed to be a part of this?”

Buffy shook her head in the negative, automatically, even though she knew she was loosening up on the idea.

“It’s dangerous for you to be involved.”

Veronica walked over and picked up the teeny purse that was still lying on the scattered ashes.  “Apparently it’s as least as dangerous to be an innocent bystander,” she said pointedly, as she pulled out the wallet inside.  She flipped to the ID.  “Unless you think Lisa Webber was busy investigating demons in 1983.”

Buffy growled in frustration.  “You shouldn’t be part of the fighting.  But you have a point.  And more importantly you have info.  Can you be at the school library tomorrow at three?”

Veronica nodded.  “I can be there.  I don’t know coherent Wallace will be, but I’ll try to talk to him.”

Buffy inclined her head in acknowledgment and turned to leave.

“Who did you think I work for?”

She turned.  “I’m sorry?”

Veronica rolled her eyes.  “You, and that British teacher, who I’m now guessing either works for you or possibly is your mortal enemy, not quite sure of the dynamics there, but he’s obviously involved in your whole situation somehow.  You, both made reference to a ‘he’ you thought was pulling my strings.  As a determined individual, I take exception to the idea that my behavior is anything but my own.”

Buffy nodded, accepting the validity of the question.  She didn’t actually trust this girl and she highly doubted Veronica trusted her – she knew there were things they were both keeping from each other.  But she did buy into Veronica’s reasons for being there.  Her story of her friend had been sincere.  She didn’t see the harm in giving her the info, especially as they had already tipped their hand a bit on that score.  “We thought you were working for the Mayor.”

“The guy on all the billboards?  I knew he looked too sincere to be for real.  And by working for him, I’m assuming you don’t mean in some sort of admin capacity.”

“Oh, he’s sincere all right.”  Buffy grinned ruefully.  “He’s all up on civic duty, except for the tiny part where he’s going to kill us all.”

“But he opened the new baseball field?”

“And spoke at the cub scout jamboree.”

“And I thought my town was evil.”


	9. Chapter 9

Veronica rapped at the door to the Fennel’s little bungalow again.  No answer.  She should have thought this through.  Eleven am on a Wednesday; of course Wallace’s mom was going to be at work.  And, given the state he’d been in, it wasn’t really surprising that Wallace wasn’t feeling up for door duty.  She was half considering a run to the Mars investigations office for her lock picks when she realized Mrs. Fennel’s car was still out front. 

She tried the handle.  The door was unlocked.

Concern flared as she poked her head in the door, worst case scenarios flooding her mind, only to see Alicia making her way exhaustedly to the front room.  

Veronica gaped a little at the change the last twenty-four hours had wrought.   Wallace’s mom was usually polished and put together.  Not in the buffed and sheened Neptune trophy wife kind of way, but a pretty and natural look that reminded Veronica of her own mother back before things had gone off the rails.  Now, she looked haggard, face drawn and pinched, the bags under her eyes were visible, even from across the room.  Her hair was pulled absently back in a knot, and she was wearing a sweatshirt had obviously been slept in. 

And she looked scared.  More than anything, that brought home to Veronica severity of Wallace’s illness.

All the talk of spells and demons the night before had made the entire scenario feel more than a little cartoonish. 

Even though she’d seen the vampires herself, had almost been bitten by one, and yeah, she was going to have to circle back on that concept at some point when her mind could take it, it was somehow difficult to consider them as real.  She kept half expecting some sort of elaborate prank, or maybe a scam.  Old man Withers trying to keep people away from the rundown amusement park.  Part of her mind had almost relaxed, because Wallace couldn’t actually be in danger from a demon, because it was a _demon_ and they weren’t real.

Seeing Alicia, Veronica knew it was much worse than she had thought, and honestly this demon summoner had better hope that Buffy got to him before she did.

 “Oh, Veronica.”  Alicia paused, apparently unsurprised that Veronica had let herself in.  She shook her head.  “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear – I’m afraid Wallace isn’t really up for visitors right now.”

Veronica ignored the further spikes of alarm Alicia’s words had triggered.  She didn’t have the luxury to wallow right now.  Wallowing could come later.  Once they’d kicked some demon butt.

She smiled reassuringly at Alicia as she tried rapidly to plan.  They needed whatever kind of description of the demon they could get from Wallace.  She wasn’t exactly up on demon researching methodology, but if he said it was a one-eyed-one-horned flying purple-people-eater – well that should rule out anything red or normally sighted.

There was also no way she could possibly explain this.

Still, Alicia hadn’t questioned her presence at her house in the middle of a school day either, so, odds were the other woman’s exhaustion would play in her favor if she could come up with a reasonable excuse to pry her away from her son’s bedside.  Too bad she wasn’t the typical Neptune mom who could just be distracted by something shiny.

Veronica nodded. “Oh, I wasn’t going to bother Wallace.  I was actually worrying a bit about you.  I know you’ve been running yourself ragged the last couple of days, and I wanted to check and see if there was anything I could do.  Pick up prescriptions?  Or even lunch?  Or if you had any errands you needed to run, I could stay here.  I make an awesome cup of tea.”

She smiled in a hopefully winning way.

Alicia, to her alarm, began to cry.

Veronica stared in horror, even as she tried to mutter soothing nonsensical words.  Nonsensical because who knew if any of it was true?  She wasn’t a comforting person, not anymore.  That was Wallace’s brief.  She ruffled feathers and he soothed them.

“I’m sorry,” Alicia apologized, brushing ferociously at her face and the still falling tears.  “It’s just been a lot.  The doctor doesn’t know why he isn’t responding to the antibiotics, but he isn’t.   He’s getting worse.  He was screaming in his sleep last night and there was nothing I could do.”

_Stay calm.  Stay calm, and get the info you can.  This is how you’ll help Wallace._

Alicia pulled her into an awkward hug – awkward because she knew perfectly well the other woman didn’t really even like her that much, and it wasn’t like she herself was super into being touched these days.  But welcome all the same, because this was confirmation that someone else cared as much as she did.

“Seriously, Mrs. Fennel,” she managed, clumsily patting the other woman on the shoulder, “Why don’t you let me sit with him while you take a nap for a couple of hours.”  She felt Alicia stiffen, automatically resisting, and she barreled ahead.  “You won’t do him any good if you’re dead on your feet.  Really.  I don’t mind.”

 

***

Veronica had wound up late to the library meeting, not having the heart to wake Wallace’s poor mom, who’d finally agreed to ‘maybe a quick catnap,’ and then been out for the count for nearly five hours.  It was a good thing Veronica had wangled extra absences from Clemmons after taking down ATF Ben, because she had barely seen the inside of her own classrooms this week. 

Wallace had been as bad as Alicia had said.  Maybe worse.  As in, should probably be in a hospital and not his own bed worse.

He wasn’t coherent enough to respond directly to questioning – honestly Veronica wasn’t even sure he’d recognized her.  He’d ranted on quite a lot, though, and Veronica had written down everything she could make out and a great deal that was probably gibberish.  Because, what did she know, maybe it was vital information, even though she was pretty sure the bit about Decepticons was something to do with Darrell’s Transformer toys.  

And it was something to do other than freak out.

So, the rest of Buffy’s team – squad?  crew? - was already gathered when she rushed in to the beautifully appointed if rather antiquated Sunnydale High library.  Veronica couldn’t help wincing inwardly at the handful of boxy nineties computers – worse even than the ones in the school’s computer lab - before reminding herself that not all schools had tech giant alums constantly gifting the school with upgrades.

Buffy waved a negligent hand as she introduced Veronica generally to “the gang.”  This turned out to include the oh-so-helpful Xander and the Trina lookalike, an apologetic sort whose name turned out to be Willow, who was apparently the group’s techie.  A taciturn blond guy with alert eyes named Oz and, surprisingly, queen bee Cordelia, rounded out the students in the group. 

Veronica tried to imagine drafting Madison Sinclair to help with her cases and failed.

There were also two adults in the mix.  Actually, she thought, as she evaluated younger of the two, they probably only qualified as an adult and a half.  One was in fact the same Mr. Giles from detention, who turned out to be the school’s librarian, and not a teacher, although that was a six one half dozen the other situation as far as Veronica was concerned.  He was also, apparently Buffy’s Watcher – capital letter fully implied, and no one else seemed to find the title creepy, so she guessed she’d go with it.

Or former Watcher.  British librarian guy was apparently not the current Watcher, this according to the insistence of the younger, even Britisher guy, who as far as she could tell had no school affiliation whatsoever – and again no one was picking up on the creep factor.  Did fighting the undead make one oblivious to predatory behavior from normal humans?  Did they think no fangs meant no danger?  Granted, Buffy herself could probably throw the guy across the room, which not be wholly unsatisfying, but Veronica had seen the way this guy was looking at Cordelia and she was ready to take him down on principal.  His continued presence on school property without so much as a visitor’s pass was seriously making her question Principal Snyder’s priorities.

Although if his school was really on a hellmouth, then his focus on cell phones and running in the halls was going to read as pretty ridiculous no matter what.

She gathered, from Wesley’s posturing – he looked like a Wesley too - that the title of Watcher implied some sort of leadership position, and that no one in this crowd was prepared to grant it to him, Buffy least of all. 

Buffy did, in fact, ignore the litany of complaints Wesley had launched the second the introductions had been made, continuing on as if he hadn’t spoken.

“So, it turns out Veronica goes to Neptune High,” Buffy nodded in her direction, “The team our guys are set to play on Friday.  Her friend is on the basketball team and apparently, she picked up on the anomalies in the way bunch of their best players were being sidelined.”

“Not that I don’t love to toot my own horn, but I think that’s giving me a little too much credit.  I never thought that Wallace’s flu could be a part of this.” Veronica put in, striving for normal and flippant, not entirely successfully. 

Buffy shrugged.  “You were looking for a mundane explanation.  Hard to factor supernatural illnesses into that.”

Veronica nodded.  It wasn’t worth arguing.  She was acutely aware that she was the outsider here, not to mention pretty unindoctrinated on the whole otherworldly evil situation.  That and she was so angry she could barely think straight.

She’d been angry at the basketball cheat when she’d thought he was just a cheat, but if he was responsible for making Wallace sick – her throat clenched and she shrugged her shoulders down reflexively.  Buffy might not kill people, but she hadn’t yet made that hard and fast rule for herself.

“It could be a coincidence,” Mr. Giles said, making it clear he didn’t believe a word of it.  “But yes, it’s probable your friend’s illness is mystical in origin.”

“I really must protest,” Wesley said again, with the whine of an aggrieved twelve-year-old.   “We don’t know who this person is and yet you’ve invited her into the Slayer’s sanctum?”

Veronica’s nostrils flared a little.

“Sanctum?  Huh, I would have thought this was just the school library.”  She mused. 

She was in a bad mood.  So, she was poking the bear a little bit. 

Buffy rolled her eyes.  “She’s investigating the same thing we are.  It seemed more practical to work together.”  She shrugged.  “And since she tazed a vampire yesterday, it was going to be a little bit difficult to gloss over that part.”

“Well, technically I tazed two vampires…” Veronica correct, in innocent, butter wouldn’t melt tones, which was probably less than intelligent given the whole outsider thing and the fact that Buffy could definitely take her in a fight, although, granted in a quip off she felt pretty sure she could stand her own.  But it relieved a little of her spleen.

“Angel’s fine, by the way.” Buffy’s voice was dry and Veronica shrugged beatifically.  She wasn’t particularly regretting her actions of the night before, and given a similar situation she’d be hard pressed to imagine doing anything differently.  Maybe Angel was different than other, evil, undead.  She wasn’t exactly up on the backstory, and she certainly wasn’t in a position to throw any stones from the glass house that was sucking face with the dark prince of Neptune’s evil doers.  If Buffy wanted to date him, that was fine by her.

 On the other hand, if vampires didn’t want to be tazed, then they shouldn’t be going around all monster-faced in the middle of terrifying situations.  That probably made her humanist?  Mortalist?  An anti-demon bigot?  Whatever, it was a designation she was okay with.

“She tazed Angel?”  Xander perked up.  Quite a lot actually.  Apparently, he was not an Angel fan.  Veronica sensed a story and had remind herself that they were working. “And it worked?”  He looked almost eager.  “Any after factory modifications I should know about? And what model are we talking here?”

Buffy shot Xander a look. “I didn’t examine the model before I crushed it.”

“About that,” Veronica cocked her index finger at the Slayer, “Those are actually pretty expensive, and also important to my business and general well-being.  Pretty sure you owe me a new one.”

Buffy glared at her.  “You tazed my boyfriend.  Be glad I took my anger out on the tazer.”

Veronica shrugged and made an expansive gesture.  “In my defense, all I knew was that he was a vampire.  I didn’t realize he was the same guy I met at the Bronze.  Perhaps he should wear a sign.”

“I think we might be straying a little from the purpose here.”  Mr. Giles interrupted with a cough.

“Right,” Buffy tore her glare away from Veronica with a shake of her head.  “Anyway, like I was saying we’re both looking for the same guy, so it seemed like it was a good idea to pool our information.”  She paused again, apparently diverted.  Why is it called pooling, anyway?  Why not darting or air-hockeying?”

Veronica snorted, and Oz murmured something about having air-hockeyed info once.  “Never again.”

“Well, it’s French,” said Mr. Giles in long suffering tones, apparently long used to the practice of herding cats.  “And has to do with the stakes in a card game.  And we have definitely strayed from the point.”

Veronica smiled a little even as Buffy huffed.  “Well, anyway given that the Neptune game is only two days away, working with Veronica seemed our best opportunity of actually getting this guy.  She’s been going at this from a different angle than we have.”

“I thought her name was Heather.  And yesterday you guys said she was evil.”  This contribution from Cordelia, whose indignation was a bit much, considering she seemed lawful neutral at best.  Veronica allowed herself an eyeroll.  It was nice to know her ability to make enemies with mean girls was a universal quality. 

“Not evil, last I checked,” Veronica offered, still sweetly, because that always pissed Madison types off.  “As for the name, I’m a PI.  I was undercover.”

“A teenage detective?”  The other girl’s eyebrows rose, her incredulity almost palpable. 

Veronica sighed.  “Why is this so hard for you guys to believe?  You all have apparently been fighting the actual undead for years.  I can’t run a few background searches?”

“And take money shots?” This was from Xander.  Guys always fixated on that.  Since ninety percent of the people she tailed she would have happily paid to just keep their clothes on, they were always disappointed.

“When occasion warrants,” she admitted.

“Sweet.”

Veronica shook her head.  It would take too long to explain, and he probably wouldn’t believe her anyway.. 

Willow’s voice piped up, a little uncertainly.  “So, um, do we actually know what’s going on yet?”

“Indeed,” Wesley smarmed.  “Exactly what information is this young person bringing to the table?”

Veronica allowed her smile to broaden as she regarded Wesley.  She still felt out of her depth on all of this mystical stuff, but she’d dealt with more than her fair share of impotent pseudo-authority figures.  Wesley she could handle.

She spoke slowly, as, like Lamb, it was possible he’d have problems with the big words.  “Well, my friend, the one who might or might not be mystically sick, seems to think he's being attacked by a demon.”  She lifted one shoulder.  “Now granted, he also called me Norman, so it’s possible he was hallucinating a bit, but given what I’ve learned in the last week or so, I’d say we might want to start there.

“Oh!” said Willow, sitting up straight, “Like the nightmare creature from last year?  That only the sick kids could see?”

“Um, sure,” Veronica nodded, a bit blankly.  This really was a different world.

“It's a long story,” said Buffy apologetically.

Veronica tapped her chin.  “Last year you fought a nightmare demon that only sick kids could see?”

Buffy looked nonplussed, “Okay, not as long as I thought.  Did he say anything about tentacle things shooting out of its eyes?”

_Things shooting out of its eyes?_

Veronica blanched.  “No.  Nothing with the eyes.  He said it came at night and sat on his chest taking his strength.”

Mr. Giles shook his head and muttered, apparently more to himself than to the rest of them.  “That could be any number of demons.  Though presumably not a succubi, since someone probably would have noticed the - erm the other effects.”  He reddened as he stammered out the last bit, and Veronica, who had been giving the older man a rather wide berth, remembering the terrifying change that had come over him the day before, regarded him with some amusement.  There was something rather endearing about his embarrassment.  It rendered him human.

“What other effects?” asked Cordelia.

“How does a demon tie in with a luck spell?” Willow interjected rather quickly, but not before realization seemed to strike Cordelia, who sat back with a disgusted look on her face.

“Oh, ew.”  She crossed her arms in front of her, shook her head, and then glared at Buffy as if she was somehow at fault.  “Why is it everything you fight is always so icky?”

“Yeah, can’t you find a nice wholesome evil to fight every now and then?” Xander put in.

Veronica wondered idly if he was going to pull Cordelia’s pigtails and run away.

Buffy made a wry face.  “Considering how we’ve handled our current wholesome evil; I’ll take the standard black hats any day of the week.”

This was getting nowhere, Veronica thought.  Too many cooks in the kitchen and they were definitely spoiling the broth.  She’d no idea how Buffy ever got anything done.

“Anyway,” she said, ignoring Cordelia completely, “Willow has a point.  Is this a demon or a luck spell?”    She shook her head a little in disbelief.  “I cannot believe that I am having this conversation.”

Buffy gave her the weary look of someone who had given up on explaining the hell that was her life.  Veronica recognized it.  She’d given it herself to the occasional naïve client who didn’t seem to recognize that they were chum to Neptune’s piranha infested waters. 

Although she supposed in Buffy’s case it was a literal kind of hell that she was having to explain.  This case was giving her all sorts of new perspective, and, honestly, she hadn’t thought her mind needed that much broadening.

Buffy looked to Mr. Giles, a dubious look crossing her face.  “Angel said the kid was probably summoning a faerie.”

The librarian stopped in the act of polishing his glasses, actually slapping his leg in recognition.  Veronica hadn’t thought people really did that.

“Of course!” Giles and Wesley exclaimed simultaneously.

“By George, I think they’ve got it,” Veronica murmured more to herself than to the room.

"Was this revelation before or after his shock therapy?" Xander asked.

"Xander."  Buffy’s voice was flat. 

"I'm just trying to get a full picture here,” he said.

"A fairy?  As in a tiny person with wings?" Again, Cordelia looked incredulous.  For a girl who had apparently been facing supernatural entities on the regular for years she seemed to have a shockingly narrow world view.

"So, we just say we don't believe in fairies over and over again until we take out the right one?  Sounds like an easy day’s work."

This last was from Oz, who dropped his offering into the conversation like he hoped no one would notice.  Veronica smiled, despite herself.

“Unfortunately, Mr. Barrie's work bears little resemblance to the reality of the dark Fae.” Mr. Giles said, with a shake of his head.

“So, we’re saying fairies are real?”  Willow asked, her voice an odd mixture of hope and dread.

“In a sense,” Mr. Giles said.  “There are demons that prefer to prey on human fallibility, rather than the more straightforward death and destruction offered by most species.”

“Like vengeance demon Anya?”  Willow nodded, apparently enlightened.  “With the wishes?”

“Yes, exactly.  She used the wish to give a person exactly what they wanted but ensured that the results caused havoc.”

“Great, so how do we kill it?” Veronica asked.

“Oh, are we killing Anya?” asked Willow, a little hopefully.

“Unfortunately,” Giles said.  “We need to know a little bit more about what demon we’re dealing with. I hadn’t found a demon associated with that particular glyph, but I hadn’t thought to look at the Fae.”

A point occurred to Veronica.

“Did you not think of it?  Or were you made not to?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Well, you keep saying this is a luck demon.  It would be awfully lucky for our guy if it didn’t occur to you to check an entire section of mythology, right?”

Giles blanched.  “You might be right, although in that case – if we can’t trust our memories or our instincts, I’m not entirely sure where we go from there.  We might pass over the correct demon without even realizing it.”  He reached for his already clean glasses to polish them again.  Veronica wondered if he even realized he was doing it.

 “If it helps, Wallace kept saying something about Lou.”  Veronica bit her lip, picturing a demon with a beer gut and a trucker hat.  “Can a demon be named Lou?”

“Lugh?” asked Giles.

Veronica blinked.  “Maybe?  Is that different from what I said?”

“L-u-g-h.”  Giles explained.  “A major figure in Celtic folklore.  Definitely portrayed as a trickster on occasion.  Famously killed his own grandfather, and known for breaking the ancient hospitality laws.”

“What, like showing up without a hostess gift?”  Buffy sounded a little incredulous, and Veronica didn’t exactly blame her.  Who cared that the demon was rude?  Surely the fact that he was a demon was the lead story.

“Like slaughtering his guests.”  Wesley, the world’s most pedantic TA, announced.

“Man, his place must have really bad reviews on Trip Advisor.”  Veronica said with little grimace.

“I’m not sure you lot are taking this entirely seriously.”  Wesley sniffed.  “Hospitality is one of the original rules of order and most demons actually obey these laws quite strictly – that, of course is why a vampire cannot enter unless invited.”

“And then as a good host and soon-to-be corpse, we can offer him his choice of beverage. Politeness itself.”  Buffy said.

“Essentially, yes.” Giles nodded, a little ruefully.  “Lugh, somewhat infamously, ignores these rules, inviting the the sons of Turienn to a feast before sending them to their deaths, and poisoning Bres with drink that he could not refuse without violating the hospitality rules himself.    Oddly enough, Lugh is also associated with oaths and truth telling, although possibly that has more to do with the origins of his name than any particular folklore surrounding him, Lugh being derived from the proto-European lewgh-”

“Giles, you’re babbling.”  Buffy cut in.

“So, he’ll kill us all, but he won’t lie about it.”  Oz nodded in apparent satisfaction.

“I know I’m comforted.” Xander said with a grimace.

“Is this god-demon-faerie-whatever really our issue, though?”  Veronica broke in, a little impatiently.

“I’m sorry?” Giles asked.

“He’s only causing this trouble because he’s been summoned, right?  So, if we stop the kid summoning him, then… shouldn’t he go away?”

“Theoretically.  If we knew who was doing the summoning.”

***

For a small town, Sunnydale had more than its fair share of a few things, cemeteries and sewers among them.  What it did not have a lot of was privacy.  The town was completely riddled with should be secret places – caves and atypical for southern California forested areas, dark alleys and abandoned buildings – but generally you couldn’t help but trip over another person, or a demon, wherever you went.

And heaven help you if you tripped over a demon.

But there was one area everyone avoided, possibly without even realizing they avoided it.  A circle of maybe only five hundred feet around a single, solitary tree.

A few years earlier there had been a big push for better freeway access, and when the plans came down there was one noticeable kink in an otherwise straight line of highway – a curve that circled around that solitary tree.

And yet despite the actual privacy offered, it was not a place kids went to party. 

It was toward this tree a robed figure was now walking.

***

“What about the guy you were following yesterday,” Buffy asked Veronica.

“Tailing, please.”  Veronica said.  “Following makes me sound-“

“Like a puppy dog?”  Cordelia supplied, brightly.

“Remind me again why you’re still here?”

“Because I have another twenty minutes till cheer practice starts?”  The brunette looked stricken suddenly.  “This bad luck.  It won’t affect the cheerleaders, right?  I mean, we’re on the basketball team’s side.  The demon will know that, right?”

Buffy steepled her hands.  “Cordy, I’m sure the cheerleaders will be fine.”

“Yeah, but you guys just pointed out that we don’t know what we don’t know.”

“Did that sentence make sense to anyone else?” Xander asked.

Cordelia glared at him.  “I am not letting my team fall apart because of some demon.  That would be letting the evil win.”

“You’re an inspiration to us all.” Giles remarked drily.

“We’re good right?” She asked, turning to Giles.  “You don’t actually need me for anything?”

Giles closed his eyes and gave a slight shake of his head.

“You can go.”

“Great!”  Having gotten her way, Cordelia beamed a megawatt smile.  “Good luck and all, with the hunting.”  She whirled her way out of the room and Veronica glanced at Buffy, who just rolled her eyes.

“Anyway, Veronica continued, “Judging from the screams, Eugene didn't seem super confident he had a luck demon on his side.”

“On the other hand,” Xander shrugged, “The slayer did show up and save him, which, you know, was lucky.”

Veronica’s phone flashed an incoming call from Mac.  Veronica had neglected to give her an update, mostly because she hadn’t the faintest idea of where to begin.  “Yeah, you probably won’t find any digital trails because we’re dealing with a supernatural menace” was going to be a bit of a hard sell. 

  
She fumbled for her phone.  “Q?  I'm so sorry I forgot to call you.”

Mac’s voice was pitched just a hair below hysterical, and Veronica put her hand to her non phone ear.

“Mac, I need you to slow down, I don’t under-“  she broke off as Mac’s words penetrated, frustration and guilt warring together.  “I'm so sorry Mac.”

Veronica turned to look at Buffy’s crew.  “That was my tech person. I- she was looking into the grade manipulations for me, trying to trace the hacking back to the source.  And um, her hard drive melted.”


End file.
